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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758790">As Luck Would Have It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/swankyandmoomoo/pseuds/swankyandmoomoo'>swankyandmoomoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, leap year au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:55:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/swankyandmoomoo/pseuds/swankyandmoomoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa wants his boyfriend to propose to him, but Kageyama can't seem to get the hint. So Oikawa chases him all the way to Ireland in hope of having a romantic, fortuitous 'leap year proposal'. But luck doesn't seem to be on Oikawa's side when he ends up having to rely on the help of a handsome pub-owner who changes Oikawa's world view...or is it?</p><p>or the IwaOi Leap Year AU that literally no one asked for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fic so please read it gently. Leap Year is one of my favorite rom coms ever and I wanted to share that with y'all. I changed the premise of the leap year proposal so it wouldn't be so misogynistic and heteronormative but the plot is pretty much the same. Oikawa is Amy Adams and Iwaizumi is Matthew Goode. Hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oikawa carded his fingers through his hair, making sure to maintain its appearance of effortless style. He felt nervous and giddy as he opened the heavy wooden doors leading to a grand entryway. The blast of warmth from a nearby vent was a nice respite to the brisk February wind that swept in after him. Kageyama was already standing in the entryway, scrolling through his phone while waiting for Oikawa to arrive.</p><p>“Yoohoo, Tobio-chan! Did you wait long?” Oikawa walked towards Kageyama, taking in his perfectly combed hair and sleek winter coat.</p><p>Kageyama looked up from his phone, his mouth lifting at the corners for a quick smile before he answered, “No I just got here. You ready for this?”</p><p>Oikawa nodded, took his hand, and squeezed it two times, letting out some of that nervous energy that had been building up since this morning. Together they walked into the main room, where the two interviewers were already seated behind a large wooden desk. Oikawa took in the beautifully decorated interior that was screaming luxury, with the gilded chairs and soft cushions and glittering chandeliers. It was hard to believe that he was so close to reaching this dream that he and Kageyama shared.</p><p>The interviewers were a middle-aged woman and man, dressed professionally in muted colors, each line of their clothing crisp and clean. Even the woman’s jewelry seemed to sparkle with an extra shine. Oikawa and Kageyama took a seat across the desk from the two interviewers and waited to be addressed as they flipped through documents. Oikawa suspected they were analyzing the application they had submitted. After a brief pause in the sound of shuffling papers, the woman lifted her eyes from the papers and pierced Oikawa with a sharp gaze.</p><p>“So, Oikawa-san. You’re a real estate agent?” she asked.</p><p>Oikawa had heard this question more times than he could count, and he had a practiced spiel explaining the difference between the art of constructing an empty space into something that was desirable and the mundane business of selling that space to interested buyers.</p><p>“Not exactly,” he responded. “I’m a stager, so I stage apartments for realtors when they show listings to their clients. I transform ordinary spaces into something special. Because most people don’t know what they want until someone shows it to them.”</p><p>The woman nodded in understanding and peered down at her paper again, which Oikawa was now convinced was the details of their application. When she lifted her gaze again, Oikawa was prepared to meet her inquisitive eyes with a charming smile and as much charisma as he could muster.</p><p>“As I’m sure you’re aware,” she spoke slowly, “apartments at the Royal Minamizabu don’t come up very often. And we get quite a lot of interest from well-qualified and well-suited applicants.” She paused, “So why you?”</p><p>Oikawa straightened in his seat. He had anticipated this question and had already rehearsed an answer that he was sure would be just the right mix of eager and sincere and humble.</p><p>“Well, I’ve lived in Tokyo my entire life,” he began, “and I’ve always dreamed of living here. It had always seemed like a faraway prospect, almost unattainable. But I’ve found someone who shared that dream with me.” At this line, Oikawa reached over and placed a palm over Kageyama’s folded hands. He looked over at Kageyama lovingly, really milking the drama and romance for this moment. Kageyama returned his gaze with a soft smile and placed one hand on top of Oikawa’s, solidifying the statement. And it was true, that Oikawa and Kageyama had found each other as they were steadily climbing the ladders of success in their respective careers; Oikawa as a stager and Kageyama as cardiologist. When they met, they were both young and ambitious, their eyes set on being the best at what they did. Little had changed since then. They still wanted that elite status, and they had the same priorities and aspirations. They were each engrossed in their career but still able to carve some time out of their busy schedules to date. They were what some would call a ‘power couple’. And with power couple status came the necessity of matching labels with appearances. So they had set out on obtaining one of the most expensive and luxurious apartments Tokyo had to offer.</p><p>“And I can assure you,” he continued, “you will not find two people more in sync with your high expectations, and if I may be so bold, your tastes.” He ended this last statement with a knowing smile, as if he and the interviewer were sharing a joke in confidence.</p><p>The woman’s eyes softened, and her lips tugged up in a small smile. “Thank you. You’ll hear from us soon.” Oikawa gave Kageyama’s hand a little squeeze, expressing the excitement he was containing for appearances.</p>
<hr/><p>As they walked out of the building, they tightened their scarves and stuffed their hands in their pockets, reaching to check new notifications. Oikawa felt elated from that interview. It had gone really well, and the interviewers seemed to have been thoroughly charmed by the two handsome men who were clearly in love and happy to start a new chapter of their lives as residents of the Royal Minamizabu.</p><p>Kageyama seemed to share in his excitement as he listed all the things they could look forward to in the near future. “Three bedrooms. Concierge. Full gym and swimming pool looking over the common. I mean, can you imagine?”</p><p>“Don’t get cocky.” Oikawa chided. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. The interview had gone well, but there were always people out there who the world thought was just a little bit better than him. But he was determined to change the world’s opinion, and so that meant he had to be prepared for anything.</p><p>Kageyama glanced up from his phone. “What? You don’t think they liked us?”</p><p>Oikawa rolled his eyes, “<em>I</em> like us. Don’t <em>you</em> like us?”</p><p>“We’re ok.” Kageyama deadpanned and held up his phone to snap a photo of Oikawa posing in front of what would hopefully be their new home. As he took the photo, his lips pulled down in a frown. “Ugh, ugly,” he lilted.</p><p>Oikawa let out an offended cry. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“Oh no, not you. One of my colleagues is emailing me updates about his double bypass.”</p><p>Oikawa recoiled at the thought. “Ugh, well I’m glad I skipped lunch.” At the ding of a notification, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. A calendar reminder for his suit-fitting session with the tailor this afternoon. And a thank you from the realtor he worked with announcing that two offers had already been made for the apartment he had staged this morning. Oikawa smirked. He had promised the realtor that five offers would come in by the end of the day.</p><p>Kageyama returned to his phone to scroll through the rest of the email. “No, this is good. This is great because now I don’t have to go in and we can go to dinner. But don’t be late. We have an eight o’clock reservation and they’re pretty strict.”</p><p>Oikawa scoffed, “When am I ever late?”</p><p>“When your dad comes out of the woodwork and demands to see his son on short notice.” Kageyama retorted.</p><p> “I have to go, Tobio-chan.” Oikawa pouted, “It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.”</p><p>Kageyama nodded in understanding, “I know. I just wouldn’t want you to be late for our special dinner.”</p><p>Sighing, Oikawa said, “You know I don’t like surprises.”</p><p>“I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” With that cryptic statement and a quick kiss goodbye, Kageyama went on his way.</p>
<hr/><p>While he headed to the suit fitting store and even while he was firing off suggestions for the poor tailor who was struggling to pin fabric in the right places, Oikawa continued to replay the interview and Kageyama’s mysterious parting words in his mind. He was caught between pure happiness at the prospect of actually landing an apartment at the Royal Minamizabu and nervous excitement over what Kageyama had planned for dinner. Don’t get him wrong, Oikawa loved being treated to dinner by his boyfriend, but he liked to know what he was doing before he did it. Preparation had defined his life since he could remember. In college he had made sure to read the class syllabus at the beginning of every semester, so assignments never came as a surprise. Even as an elementary school student, he would visit the stationary store weeks before the start-of-school rush so that he could claim his favorite notebooks and the erasers that were shaped like aliens. And especially in his career, preparation and planning meant that he knew exactly how to rework the blank canvas of an empty apartment to make it marketable and desirable to clients. Careful organization and well-made plans were a recipe for success. Luck had nothing to do with his reputation as a stager who could work wonders for places that struggled to get a single offer, and it would never get him to where he wanted to be.</p><p>Oikawa was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Hanamaki sweep through the doors of the tailor shop, both arms loaded with shopping bags. Without preamble, Hanamaki began to chatter excitedly, “Oh my god, Oikawa this is gonna blow your mind. You will not believe who I just saw coming out of Mikimoto with a small blue bag. Do you know what this means? Oh my god.”</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes widened, slowly taking in all the information. “Ok, ok, slow down there Makki. Who was it?”</p><p>“It was Kageyama! Oh my god, this means you’re gonna have a bigger engagement ring than me, you big jerk!” Hanamaki seemed to be processing the information as he was speaking.</p><p>The announcement seemed to stun Oikawa into stillness for a moment before he too began to bubble with excitement and nervousness. “Oh my god, is this really happening? Are you sure it was him?”</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure it wasn’t some other tall, brooding, hunk leaving Mikimoto at four in the afternoon.” Hanamaki said in exasperation. “Did you know this was gonna happen?”</p><p>“I mean, I did put him on the mailing list a couple months ago hoping he would get the hint. But I didn’t know if he got the hint or—”</p><p>“Oh, I think he got the hint alright.” Hanamaki said smugly and confidently.</p><p>Oikawa brought his hands up to his cheeks, patting them a few times, confirming that yes, this was indeed happening, and oh god, now he had to look his absolute best for dinner tonight, he needed to prepare for maybe one of the biggest moments of his life, and oh no, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore—he needed to practice his surprised face.</p><p>“Wait Makki, I need to act surprised for when he actually proposes. He can’t know that I already knew! How does this look?” Oikawa’s eyes went big and round and his lips parted in a small O.</p><p>Hanamaki looked unconvinced, “Eh, maybe try less of an ‘oh no my doctor just told me I only have months to live’ look. Tone down the eyebrows.”</p><p>Oikawa rolled his eyes as he turned away from Hanamaki. As he swiveled back around to face Hanamaki, he had softened his eyebrows and lifted his smile a bit more. He brought his hand up to cup his cheek in what was meant to be a surprised gesture and even added a little gasp.</p><p>“Weeelll, the good news is that you have time to practice before dinner,” Hanamaki said while trying to hold in his laughter.</p>
<hr/><p>“Can I marry you?”</p><p>Oikawa looked over and met the unfocused gaze of some slouchy guy at the bar who was clearly one drink past his prime. “No, thank you.” Oikawa responded lightly, keeping his expression pleasantly neutral.</p><p>“Already married, huh?” the guy asked in disappointment, as if that would be the only reason that would make Oikawa refuse him.</p><p>“No,” Oikawa responded proudly, “but I am getting engaged.”</p><p>“Engaged?” a voice from behind Oikawa exclaimed.</p><p>Turning around, Oikawa’s face broke into a smile as he saw that his dad had just stepped into the bar. “My son is engaged?” the elder Oikawa continued to repeat excitedly.</p><p>They shared a tight embrace and Oikawa’s dad ordered beers for the both of them in celebration. As they sat back down, Oikawa’s dad sighed, “Well it’s about time he came around. I mean, you’ve been with the guy four years! I proposed to your mother after a week! Where is the lucky guy anyway?”</p><p>“Packing. He’s heading to a cardiology convention in Ireland tomorrow,” Oikawa responded quickly. Every time they met up, his father would grill Kageyama about their future plans and what he was up to. It was clear that his dad loved him a lot and always supported his dreams, but Oikawa sometimes tired of his father’s whimsical and quirky personality which often seemed to clash with Oikawa’s own carefully detailed lifestyle.</p><p>“Oh, well good thing he proposed before he left. Otherwise you’d have to chase him all the way to Ireland. Pull a Grandma Aya. It is a leap year, you know,” Oikawa’s dad said knowingly.</p><p>Oikawa sighed and rolled his eyes, “Dad, please do not tell that story again. It’s a family myth.”</p><p>“It’s the honest-to-god truth!” his dad exclaimed. “Grandma Aya and Grandpa Kazuo had been dating for awhile, but Grandma Aya got sick of waiting for a proposal. So, she planned a trip to Ireland and on February 29<sup>th</sup> in Dublin, Ireland, she hit him with it. Boom!” Oikawa jolted in his seat at that outburst. “Ring on finger. Signed, sealed, delivered.”</p><p>His father toasted to his last statement and continued on, “They’ve been blissfully happy ever since. And now everyone in our family knows that it’s good luck to get engaged on Leap Day. Some of that Irish luck definitely rubbed off on our family. It’s a lucky day, you know. Only once every four years do you get this chance! Fortuitous things happen on Leap Day.”</p><p>“Well, I won’t be pulling a ‘Grandma Aya’.” Oikawa said, exasperated at having to sit through another lecture-slash-storytelling of the fortune that their family had somehow gotten from the Irish.</p><p>Smiling happily, Oikawa’s dad agreed, “Yes, yes. And I’ll finally get some grandkids.”</p><p>“Well Dad, I have to go,” Oikawa said apologetically, getting up from his seat.</p><p>“Oh no! But I just got here!” his dad protested.</p><p>Slipping on his jacket, Oikawa tried to keep the disappointment and accusation out of his voice, “Yeah, well you were late. We said seven and I’m getting dinner with Tobio at eight.”</p><p>“Oh, alright. Bye Toto, love you,” his father waved him off. As Oikawa closed the door behind him, he saw his father turning to introduce himself to the stranger who had proposed earlier. Oikawa shook his head in amusement and smiled to himself. His father never had trouble inserting himself into any situation, able to make friends in an instant. Oikawa had inherited some of that easy confidence and charisma, and it certainly came in handy in his line of work.</p>
<hr/><p>Despite all his outward confidence, Oikawa felt like a bundle of tight nerves as he met Kageyama at the restaurant. Tonight was a big night for him. He and Kageyama had been dating for four years, and marriage had definitely been on his mind for a while now. They were both established in their professions, had a good group of friends in the city, and were really settling into their lifestyle. They had never explicitly addressed marriage, but Oikawa had thought it would be a natural step in their relationship and he was glad that Kageyama now felt the same way.</p><p>The restaurant was dimly lit with an elegant ambiance. Everyone was dressed in stylish evening wear. Soft orchestral music slipped between the brief lulls in conversation. Oikawa was instantly glad that he had pestered the tailor this afternoon to make sure not a single seam was out of place. He needed to look his best tonight.</p><p>The food came and went, probably something unconventional and delicious, but Oikawa couldn’t help but be lost in his own thoughts. He kept trying to anticipate when Kageyama would pull out the ring and ask the big question. Would it be a grand gesture, dramatic and romantic? No, that wasn’t like Kageyama. It would probably be something smaller, maybe not even at the restaurant. He would ask when they got—</p><p>“Oikawa—”, Kageyama’s voice burst through his thoughts. He lifted his gaze from the drink he had been swirling for who knows how long.</p><p>“Oikawa,” Kageyama set down his own drink and clasped his hands together. “You know, you always have it figured out for us.” Oh god, was it happening now? Oikawa hadn’t been paying attention. He suddenly honed in on every single syllable that left Kageyama’s lips, focusing on the deep timbre of his voice and the way he said Oikawa’s name.</p><p>“Even with our busy schedules and my unpredictable hours, you always manage to make things work for us,” Kageyama continued. “You know I really appreciate it, right?”</p><p>Oikawa gave a gentle nod in reply, lost in the reflection of soft light in Kageyama’s eyes. And oh, was that some nervousness he detected in Kageyama’s movements?</p><p>“So…” Kageyama reached into his jacket, pulled out a tiny velvet box, and set it in front of Oikawa. “This is for you.”</p><p>Looking between the box and Kageyama, Oikawa felt breathless. He had expected it, had known it would happen. But even so, he couldn’t seem to form a full sentence, couldn’t seem to school his expression into anything other than a wide-eyed gaze that continued to flit between the deep blue box in front of him and Kageyama’s intense blue gaze.</p><p>“Tobio,” Oikawa breathed out with a soft smile, as he lifted the delicate lid of the box…to reveal two perfectly sculpted silver cuff links embedded with a pearl on each. Oikawa blinked at the contents of the box, and blinked again, before dragging his gaze back up to Kageyama’s face. This time, he had to hide the disappointment from his eyes.</p><p>“They’re cufflinks,” Oikawa finally managed to say. “For my cuffs.” He laughed lightly, but even he could tell it sounded forced. God, why couldn’t he say anything eloquent or witty. What had happened to that easy charm of his? He was saved from having to say more when Kageyama’s phone lit up with a phone call and stole his attention.</p><p>After a brief conversation, Kageyama turned his attention back to Oikawa. “Why don’t you try them on?” he suggested.</p><p>“Oh yeah, of course,” Oikawa said, at least having something else to focus on besides the deep pit of resignation and disappointment that was pooling in his stomach. He had been so hopeful and nervous in a happy way when he had left his dad at the bar, but now he didn’t really feel much of anything. His feelings had been yanked around too much today—from the elation of the interview for the Royal Minamizabu to the anxious excitement of Hanamaki’s information to the sudden lack of anything. It had been foolish of him to get his hopes up when he hadn’t known for sure Kageyama would be getting down on one knee tonight. Dammit, he shouldn’t have trusted Hanamaki’s confident claims.</p><p>It seemed that Kageyama was oblivious to Oikawa’s internal emotional roller coaster. He continued to scroll through the messages that were popping up on his phone, “I think I really have to go in for this. Ennoshita-san said that it’s serious and they’ll have to go in through the spine. I’ll pick up my bag from the apartment and just head straight to the airport when I’m finished. I’m really sorry. Forgive me?” Kageyama looked pained but rose from his seat as he glanced over the incoming messages.</p><p>“Of course,” Oikawa gave him a tight smile.</p><p>Kageyama put on his jacket and cupped Oikawa’s cheek, “I am so sorry. I love you.”</p><p>With a kiss on the cheek goodbye, he was gone. As soon as he left, the smile faded from Oikawa’s face.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Exhausted from the emotional whiplash he had just suffered, but tossing and turning in his bed, Oikawa’s gaze fell toward the cufflinks on his nightstand, which were still nestled in their velvet cushion. His mind churned through the events of the day, but his thoughts kept returning to his father’s words about Leap Years and proposals and fortuitous events. Frustrated with his dad’s dramatic and romantic notions, but caught up in his own curiosity, Oikawa pulled out his laptop and did some quick Google searches about ‘leap-year proposals’, which are apparently an old folklore tradition from the 5<sup>th</sup> century. He frowned at the misogyny of there being only one day every four years when women were allowed to propose to their partners, but Oikawa also couldn’t help but click on video after video of happy couples celebrating their successful engagements on Leap Day. The bright smiles and tears of joy were like a wrench in Oikawa’s still tender heart.</p><p><em>Screw it</em>, he thought, <em>why not give luck a try.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No Iwaizumi yet, but get ready for an interesting introduction in the next chapter! Also I swear I don't hate Kageyama, but he's not the one for Oikawa.</p><p>I'd love to get feedback in the comments and kudos are always appreciated! ❤️</p><p>Come talk to me on tumblr: swankyandmoomoo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oikawa just wants a massage and somewhere to charge his phone. But it's not meant to be. Iwaizumi is a mystery man.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A rough introduction for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, but we're just getting started!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Oikawa clutched tightly to his chair’s armrests, he cursed every deity of luck that had ever given humans false hope for good fortune. And then he cursed himself for foolishly believing that luck could have any sway on the way things turned out. His heart was beating way too fast and he could feel the blood leaving his hands and feet. The airplane continued to jolt and shudder through the turbulence. Oikawa chanted to himself, “I’m getting engaged. I’m getting engaged. I’m not dying without getting engaged.” At the last few words, he could feel his voice getting thinner and higher pitched, tipping into panic.</p><p>The overhead announcer blipped on and a woman’s calm voice spoke to the passengers in the cabin, “Due to severe weather conditions, this flight is being rerouted to Cardiff, Wales. Again, we will not be able to land in Dublin and will instead be landing in Cardiff.”</p><p>This announcement did nothing to settle Oikawa’s building nerves. Sure, he was eager to get off this plane ride that felt like an aviophobe’s worst nightmare, but he needed to land in Dublin. It was what he had planned as he had packed his bags in the middle of the night and booked a last-minute flight to Ireland in the hopes of proposing to Kageyama on Leap Day. A storm was <em>not</em> allowed to interfere with his plans.</p>
<hr/><p>But oh, did the storm interfere. By the time the plane landed in Cardiff, all outgoing flights and ferries had been cancelled until tomorrow due to the storm. So, Oikawa used his charm and deep pockets to convince a local fisherman to take him across the ocean to Cork, Ireland. But even then, the storm refused to relent. The boat was rerouted, and the fisherman deposited Oikawa on the shores of some Irish village that was decidedly not Cork.</p><p>With his expensive leather shoes sinking into the damp sand, and his clothes completely soaked through, Oikawa couldn’t help but bemoan the disaster that this trip had become. His phone was out of battery, Kageyama didn’t even know he was in Ireland, and he had nowhere to stay for the night. The overcast skies rumbled with thunder, rain continued to drench his clothes, and strong gusts of wind chilled him to the bone.</p><p>Exhausted and resigned, Oikawa dragged his suitcases toward the gravel path that led into town. He hoped there would be a hotel that offered massages or at least some spa treatment. He could really use some luxury and comfort to help him recalibrate and reassess his plans. Or even a nice bed and breakfast sounded wonderful. He could picture a quaint cottage-turned-bed and breakfast nestled in the foothills of Ireland. Oikawa felt his mood lift a little at the thought.</p><p>Down the path, Oikawa noticed a large building that had warm light and distant chatter spilling out the windows. The siding was peeling a little, but the red paint that decorated the façade gave it a rustic and inviting feel. It felt like a shining beacon of hope in the darkening evening. Large wooden letters hung above the entrance spelling out ‘Caragh Pub’, except the C was only a sun-stained impression of the letter that had once hung there. The place looked a little dingy, but it would do for now. He’d be able to ask about a bus schedule and take the first one to Dublin. He would have time to pick out a new suit and a ring, and he would be reunited with Kageyama in no time. Everything could still go according to plan.</p><p>Oikawa struggled with opening the wooden door while still dragging his suitcases behind him. The bell above the door chimed as he walked in, and suddenly he could feel the focus of the room on him. Heads turned to peer at the newcomer and conversation ground to a halt as the men sitting at the bar took in Oikawa’s distressed and sorry state. His clothes were rumpled and sandy. And his hair was limp and plastered to his forehead. And oh god, was that damp smell coming from <em>him</em>?</p><p>Ignoring his sudden self-consciousness, Oikawa wheeled his bags into the room and spoke in English, “Um, excuse me, are you open?”</p><p>No one answered his question, but an old man in the back piped up. “Korean.”</p><p>“Malaysian,” the man sitting next to him countered.</p><p>“Actually,” Oikawa interjected before the speculation could get out of hand, “he’s Japanese.” Oikawa pointed at himself and gave a small wave, “Oikawa from Tokyo.”</p><p>The two men stared at him blankly. Oikawa put on his most polite smile and addressed the room, hoping for some generous soul to help him, “Does anyone know how to get to Dublin? Is there a bus maybe?”</p><p>The man who had supposed Oikawa to be from Malaysia said confidently, “1987.” Oikawa blinked in confusion. “That’s the last year the Dublin bus left Dingle,” the man explained.</p><p>The other old man shook his head. “No, 1987 is when the last train stopped running. It was 1989 that the bus stopped running.”</p><p>Oikawa looked helplessly between the two as they continued to argue and turned to the man behind the bar, figuring the bartender might have a greater obligation to help out a potential customer. As he walked up to the bar, he realized that the bartender with the spiky black hair hadn’t even been paying attention to Oikawa’s entrance. He was engrossed in a newspaper crossword puzzle, chewing his pen between his teeth in thought.</p><p><em>How rude</em>, Oikawa thought, <em>not even bothering to acknowledge me or ask if I need help. He could use some customer service training. </em></p><p>“Excuse me, is there a taxi service or something around here?” Oikawa directed at the bartender who continued to be ignorant of Oikawa’s existence. The man finally lifted his gaze from the crossword. Oikawa was met with deep brown eyes and a serious expression, revealing nothing about the man’s thoughts. Oikawa took notice of the way his eyes matched his thick sweater, which was rolled up to the elbows, as well as the rustic, woody interior of the bar. He seemed comfortable and at home in this environment, although Oikawa wondered how his skin had gotten so tan. Despite Oikawa’s brief experience in Ireland so far, he was confident that the sun in Ireland did not appear often enough to give anyone a nice tan like the one he saw on the man’s forearms.</p><p>Wordlessly, the man turned away from Oikawa and plucked a business card from the corkboard behind him and handed it across the bar. His movements were languid and lazy, taking his sweet time as Oikawa waited patiently for the number of a taxi service.</p><p>“Perfect, thank you.” Oikawa responded, despite the continued lack of communication from the man. As Oikawa rustled through his bag for coins to use at the payphone near the entrance, the spiky-haired bartender quietly went to the back room behind the bar.</p><p>Oikawa slotted a few coins into the payphone and gingerly held the business card as he dialed the phone number. After a brief dial tone, the line clicked, and a deep voice came through the receiver. “Hello?”</p><p>Oikawa vaguely noted the lack of a strong Irish accent before he responded eagerly, “Hello! Yes, I need a taxi to Dublin.”</p><p>The taxi man responded, “Yeah, where’re you calling from?”</p><p>Looking around at the bar where all the regulars were still looking at him as if waiting for him to break into song and dance, Oikawa suddenly recalled the letters hanging above the door when he had entered, “Oh, I’m in a funny little pub called the Carack?” Oikawa was never good at sounding out new English words, “Or, I don’t know, Carag? Care-agh? Whatever.”</p><p>The line remained silent for a beat before the voice answered, “We don’t drive Japanese brunets.”</p><p>Oikawa frowned in confusion and a little creeped out. “What do you mean you don’t drive Japanese brunets? H-how do you know the color of my hair?” he slowly stuttered out.</p><p>As he turned back toward the rest of the bar, he saw all the bargoers chuckling behind their hands. Then the spiky-haired bartender from earlier sauntered out from the back room, phone receiver pressed against his ear and an amused smile gracing his lips. The bartender gave a mocking wave with the telephone and joined the others in their laughter.</p><p>Oikawa felt his cheeks grow hot in embarrassment, feeling like a kid who had just been teased on the playground. He took a deep breath to center himself. He would not let some guy in the middle of nowhere Ireland belittle him like this. And he probably should have guessed that in a small town like this, jobs overlapped. It was just Oikawa’s luck that this town had a bartender-taxi driver combo. “Of course,” Oikawa forced an understanding chuckle and spoke into the receiver, “You’re the taxi driver. Well, I need you—”</p><p>Before he could finish his sentence, the line clicked as the other man hung up the phone. Exasperated and nearing the end of his patience, Oikawa turned fully toward the bartender and said commandingly, “I need you to drive me to Dublin.”</p><p>The man smirked (he had the audacity to smirk!), and responded, “Dublin? Well, let me tell you a little something about Dublin, Oikawa from Tokyo,” he enunciated Oikawa’s name in a mocking tone, “Dublin is a city of chancers and cheats, backstabbers and snakes. The worst of humanity collects in Dublin to poison this fair country. I wouldn’t drive you to Dublin even if you offered me 500 Euros.” His eyes lit up with defiance and the words sounded like a challenge coming off his lips.</p><p>Oikawa rolled his eyes at the dramatic statement and looked around at the other patrons, “Ok, well any other takers? Anyone willing to drive me to Dublin for 500 Euros?”</p><p>One man at the end of the bar stood up abruptly and said, “I’m your man, sir,” and then promptly keeled over.</p><p>Oikawa sighed. It was getting pretty late and he might have better luck finding a way to Dublin in the morning. He needed to rest tonight for the day of travelling ahead of him. Hoping that finally someone would be helpful, Oikawa turned back towards the old men around the bar, “Well then, could one of you direct me to the nearest hotel? Or bed and breakfast?”</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes darted around the room, hoping for someone to admit that yes, despite the town’s humble appearances, there was actually a luxury hotel just down the road. But eventually his gaze settled on the bartender, who blinked back at him and smiled wryly.</p><p>It seemed that Oikawa’s lungs had exhausted all the air there was with the number of times he had sighed in frustration and acceptance recently. “Of course,” he muttered to himself, “Of course this is also the hotel.”</p>
<hr/><p>The still nameless bartender-slash-taxi driver led Oikawa down a cramped and narrow hallway on the second floor of the bar. At least he had had the decency to carry Oikawa’s heavy suitcases into the room. The man explained the so-called amenities to Oikawa, “The bathroom is down the hall. You’ll have to flush twice. Seriously, flush twice.”</p><p>Oikawa grimaced at the thought. “Just like the Four Seasons,” he grumbled bitterly under his breath.</p><p>They approached a small room at the end of the hallway. When the door swung open, Oikawa was met with a small bedroom with a large wooden wardrobe and twin bed pushed against the far wall. Despite this effort at increasing the apparent size of the room, the walking space was still barely a meter wide and three meters long. A single lamp hanging from the wall washed the room in a warm orange glow, illuminating the gaudy pink floral wallpaper that reminded Oikawa of his old piano teacher’s house. There was barely enough space to fit two people in the room. As Oikawa dropped his personal bag on the bed, he turned back toward the bartender who was standing in the doorway. “I noticed a menu on the bar?” he began, and then chided himself for even asking as the man gave him a genuinely apologetic expression.</p><p>“It’s closed.”</p><p>“Ah, right,” Oikawa said in disappointment. He had been hoping for at least something to nibble on. He was only running on a cup of coffee and some airplane snacks and was becoming increasingly aware of his hunger. He put on his most charming smile and gave the bartender an imploring look. “But given the famous Irish tradition of hospitality and generosity…?”</p><p>The man nodded in consideration. “Alright, I’ll do you a sandwich.”</p><p>Once the man left for the kitchen, Oikawa looked around the room in search of an outlet. His phone had died somewhere along the harrowing journey between Tokyo and wherever this town was, and he needed to contact Kageyama to let him know that Oikawa was here. He spotted an outlet on the wall behind the bed and began to jostle the bed around, hoping to carve out some space for him to reach down and unplug the cords that were taking the electricity that Oikawa’s phone desperately needed. After a few shoves of the bed, it suddenly gave way and slammed into the wardrobe that was at the foot of the bed. The wardrobe tipped over and emptied its contents of toilet paper and cleaning supplies onto the bed. But Oikawa had his eyes set on the now easily accessible outlet. He ignored the sounds of the room around him as his sudden movements knocked over a lamp, which tipped a painting, which landed on an unstable nightstand, which fell over and caused a bottle to shatter on the carpeted floor. Those were concerns for another time. Right now, Oikawa only had one goal, one thing that he needed to happen, and that was to charge his phone.</p><p>As soon as the metal tips of phone charger touched the wall outlet, the single lamp in his room flickered, and suddenly sparks were flying out of the outlet. Oikawa squeaked in surprise but determinedly stuffed the rest of plug into the outlet, which resulted in more sparks from the wall, the concerning sound of a large power source shutting down, and the sudden silence following a power outage.</p><p>Oikawa huffed in frustration. He could feel his face was red from the exertion, but there was nothing to be done. His phone hadn’t been revived by the sparks and power surge from the wall, and it remained dead and a little smoky. The room was now completely dark, so Oikawa pulled out an emergency flashlight from his bag and began to look around the room. Peering down at the wardrobe contents that had been dumped onto his bag, his eyes snagged on an old framed photograph. It showed the serious bartender with a soft and happy smile on his face. He was standing with two other people. A beautiful young woman with short brown hair and a playful smile stood between the bartender and another man who had dusty blond hair and a contented grin. They were standing in front of the pub, but it looked completely different from the place Oikawa had entered just an hour ago. The paint on the building was fresh and smooth, and the letters spelling out ‘Caragh’ looked brand new. The C hadn’t gone missing yet. A wave of curiosity washed over Oikawa. It was clear that these three were connected to and connected by the pub in some way. But where were the other two in the photo now? And why had this photo been hidden in the wardrobe of a rarely-used guest room? And why did the man not have an Irish accent? Oikawa was suddenly intrigued by the rude bartender.</p><p>All of a sudden, the door creaked open and Oikawa, startled, pointed the flashlight at the intruder. The offender was none other than the bartender-slash-taxi driver-slash-mystery man that Oikawa had just been looking at in the photo. But instead of a warm smile and eyes pinched in happiness, he was squinting under the glare of the flashlight and frowning at Oikawa. The man looked around at the state of the room, the shattered glass and furniture in disarray and said in incredulity, “What the hell’re you doing?”</p><p>“Plugging something in,” Oikawa responded innocently.</p><p>Then his eyes landed on the picture frame sitting in Oikawa’s lap and his face grew even more unhappy. “Give me that. It’s personal,” he said roughly, snatching the photo from Oikawa’s hands and replacing it with a sandwich on a plate.</p><p>Offended by the rude behavior and sudden aggression, Oikawa’s anger bubbled up. He countered accusingly, “You fried my phone!”</p><p>The man looked back in offended amazement. “You fried the whole village, idiot!” he answered back and slammed the door shut.</p><p>In the dark room illuminated only by the dim flashlight, Oikawa looked down at the cold sandwich reproachfully and muttered, “Jackass.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the slow development, but first impressions are really fun to write :) Iwaizumi's POV coming in the next chapter!</p><p>Please leave kudos and comments if you liked this!❤️</p><p>Come talk to me about Haikyuu!! on tumblr: swankyandmoomoo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iwaizumi is a cynic and there are cows.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It was fun to write from Iwaizumi's point of view for this chapter! Also these scenes are hilarious and would definitely recommend watching the movie as well.</p><p>Also, does this count as enemies to lovers? lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a fitful night of tossing and turning, Iwaizumi woke to the dewy morning light filtering in through his window. He sighed. Last night had been stressful, and the power outage had left him shivering in his bedroom that also served as a storage space next to the kitchen. Thinking of the power outage, and specifically the reason for the power outage, Iwaizumi felt another wave of annoyance wash over him. At first it had been amusing to prank the man with the taxi company phone call, but the destruction of his guest room, the snooping into his personal belongings, and the power outage that followed had felt like revenge of an uncalled-for magnitude. The arrogant and oblivious man with his heavy luggage and disarming smiles had been the cause of Iwaizumi’s cold night. <em>Oikawa from Tokyo</em>. Iwaizumi frowned, recalling the commanding tone Oikawa had used in all of his requests last night. <em>Drive me to Dublin. Make me a sandwich. You fried my phone! I’m beautiful and rich, and you’re all just peasants in comparison. </em>Okay, so Oikawa hadn’t exactly said those words, but his imperious tone and confident demeanor had really rubbed Iwaizumi the wrong way, and just thinking about the idiot only made Iwaizumi’s blood boil hotter.</p><p>Iwaizumi pushed the man from his thoughts and rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes. He needed to get ready for another day of sparse business and rowdy regulars. When Iwaizumi stepped out the front door of the pub to collect his mail, however, he was met with the stoic gaze of Ushijima. Iwaizumi groaned internally; he had been hoping to avoid this interaction until next week.</p><p>“Good morning, Iwaizumi,” Ushijima greeted him.</p><p>“Hey Ushijima. Coming in for some breakfast? I can get the stove going in a sec,” Iwaizumi responded, trying to keep his tone light and skirting around the real reason that Ushijima had showed up in front of his pub so early in the morning.</p><p>“No,” Ushijima said bluntly. “I’m here to collect the payment that you owe me. It’s been overdue for a week now,” Ushijima stared at him seriously. “If you can’t pay, I’ll have to take the utilities from the kitchen.”</p><p>Iwaizumi startled at the last statement. “What? You can’t take the kitchen! I’ll go out of business!” he protested.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Ushijima said impassively, “but I can’t keep waiting for payment if it’s not going to come. I’m prepared to take the kitchen in this van today.” Ushijima’s buddy, Tendou, waved menacingly from the passenger seat of the van.   </p><p>Iwaizumi sighed and rubbed his temples. He needed to find a way to manifest 1000 Euro right now. “Will you please give me a month? I’ll be able to pay you then,” Iwaizumi pleaded.</p><p>Shaking his head, Ushijima remained unmoved, “A month? I’ll need it in a week.”</p><p>At this, Iwaizumi began to panic. Business had been steadily declining over the past few months. The lack of tourists definitely hadn’t helped, especially in the dead of winter. But with the weather getting marginally less rainy and cold, he had hoped that he would get more business in the coming months. Still…a week to generate 1000 Euro from a dingy pub that was usually only frequented by regulars from the town (and those were regulars whom Iwaizumi always graciously allowed to put drinks on their rarely-paid but hefty tabs)? The task felt impossible.</p><p>Apparently noticing Iwaizumi’s distress, Ushijima conceded, “Alright, I’ll give you ten days. 1000 Euro in ten days.”</p><p>Shoulders sagging in acceptance, Iwaizumi nodded. “1000 Euro in ten days,” he confirmed. “You’ll have it. You have my word.”</p><p>Both men spit in their palms and shook on it, sealing the agreement.</p><p>As Ushijima drove away, Iwaizumi’s mind churned through all the possibilities that would allow him to generate 1000 Euro in ten days. He knew that with Ushijima’s personality, he would make good on his promise of taking the kitchen utilities. And then Iwaizumi really would be shit out of luck. They had known each other for close to ten years now, and never had Ushijima failed to deliver on his word. They had arrived in Dingle around the same time, and while Iwaizumi had opened up the Caragh Pub, Ushijima had established his own tavern across town. They had been quick rivals but also begrudging friends. Eventually, when the tourists started to drift towards Ushijima’s tavern instead of Iwaizumi’s increasingly unkempt pub, he knew that he would have to rely on the other man’s help to pay his bills and mortgage. But now Iwaizumi was indebted to Ushijima, struggling to find a way to repay him.</p><p>The thought of tourists sparked something in Iwaizumi’s thoughts. Oikawa’s words from last night floated to the front of his mind, <em>Drive me to Dublin for 500 Euro</em>, and Iwaizumi quickly brushed them aside. No way would he indulge that idiot and waste a full day driving to Dublin. Iwaizumi groaned in frustration. But he really needed that money and it seemed he was willing to do whatever it took to pay back this debt.</p><p>Putting on his most pleasant expression and replaying the thought of getting 500 Euro from a short road trip through his mind, Iwaizumi climbed the stairs to the guest room. Opening the door to Oikawa’s room without knocking, he was met with the sight of Oikawa rummaging through his suitcase in nothing but a pair of pastel pink boxer briefs. Iwaizumi ignored Oikawa’s shocked expression and the way a blush seemed to be travelling from Oikawa’s cheeks to his neck and to his toned chest.</p><p>Cutting through Oikawa’s offended spluttering, Iwaizumi said, “Okay, let’s do it.” After a beat he added, “But only cause you’re desperate.”</p><p>It seemed like Oikawa was still struggling to form full sentences while grabbing a silk robe to cover himself. He managed to eke out a “Wha-a-a?” with some gasps and huffs of indignation, but otherwise continued to stare back at Iwaizumi with wide eyes.</p><p>“I’ll drive you to Dublin,” Iwaizumi explained matter-of-factly.</p><p>Oikawa finally gathered his wits about him, straightened up, and spat out, “Will you get out?”</p><p>Iwaizumi sighed as if indulging a small child and turned around so he was facing the door. He didn’t have time for Oikawa’s antics. Slowly, Iwaizumi repeated Oikawa’s words from yesterday, “500 Euro, like you said.”</p><p>Oikawa scoffed in response, “Well you’ve made it clear that you’re not a fan of Dublin, so I won’t inconvenience you.”</p><p>“It’s not an inconvenience at all,” Iwaizumi quickly denied.</p><p>“Which part of <em>get out</em> do you not understand?” Oikawa demanded, the imperious tone creeping back into his words.</p><p>Iwaizumi glanced over his shoulder to make eye contact with Oikawa. “A simple yes or no will do,” he said calmly.</p><p>“Yes,” Oikawa huffed out. “You can drive me to Dublin. Now get out!”</p><p>Iwaizumi gave a small cry of success in his mind. Now he only needed another 500 Euro to pay back to Ushijima. “Good,” Iwaizumi said with a smile. “Be outside in ten minutes,” he told Oikawa, closing the door behind him on the way out.</p><p>As soon as Iwaizumi was in the hallway, he realized that Oikawa had made no efforts to reorganize and tidy up the room. With another idea clawing its way to the front of his mind, Iwaizumi turned on his heel and opened the door to Oikawa’s room again. This time he was met with an affronted cry of “Naked here!” from Oikawa. The man was still wrapped in his silk robe, but had left the lapels of the robe loose, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones and chest.</p><p>Iwaizumi noted the flush in Oikawa’s face that clearly hadn’t faded, and reminded Oikawa, “By the way, it’s 100 for the room and that includes the vandalism.” He gave a pointed look at the shattered bottle on the ground and crooked painting hanging on the wall. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He gave one last smirk and closed the door behind him.</p><hr/><p>As Oikawa stepped out of the pub, the Irish wind blew forth to greet him. And greet him it did. Quite aggressively, in fact, that Oikawa’s hair was no longer carefully styled and instead had blown into his eyes and was tufted in all the wrong places. After a quick morning shower, he had managed to comb and style his hair into some semblance of its usual glory despite the lack of blow dryer. But now all that effort had gone to waste. Oikawa figured his day couldn’t get any worse.</p><p>When he woke up that morning, he had rushed downstairs to use the payphone to give Kageyama a call, letting him know that Oikawa was here on a surprise visit. Kageyama had sounded excited, eager to see Oikawa in Dublin. Also eager to be reunited with his boyfriend, Oikawa began to get ready for the day, straightening out his clothes that had gotten wrinkled during the long trip and thinking about finding someone else willing to be his driver. But then, as Oikawa was getting dressed, the brutish man from last night, whom Oikawa had learned was named Iwaizumi, had barged into his room suddenly agreeing to drive Oikawa to Dublin. In a state of undress and startlement, Oikawa had accepted Iwaizumi’s offer. But now looking at the car that Iwaizumi had parked in front of the pub, he was suddenly having second thoughts.</p><p>“Please tell me that <em>that</em> is the car that’s going to take us around the corner to the real taxi,” Oikawa pointed at the small car in front of him. The car looked like something from the old 60s movies that Oikawa liked to force Kageyama to watch with him. It was painted a deep red that had faded over the years. It looked like it had weathered its fair share of road trips and tune-ups and was perhaps nearing the end of its life.</p><p>Iwaizumi glared at Oikawa’s suggestion and patted the car in front of him. “I’ll have you know, that <em>that</em> is a Renault 4. She’s classic!” he said in defense.</p><p>Oikawa thought it was cute that Iwaizumi was so protective of the car, but he was seriously concerned about taking a road trip in that car. “Worst fears confirmed,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>Iwaizumi gave the car a hard shove, presumably to show how sturdy it was. The car gave a creak and a groan and settled back into place. “Rock solid,” he confirmed.</p><p>“Oh yeah, none of those fancy airbags to get in the way,” Oikawa griped.</p><p>Scoffing in response, Iwaizumi turned toward the car, gave it a gentle pat, and murmured into the metal, “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”</p><p>Oikawa watched the man whisper to his car, rolling his eyes at how childish Iwaizumi suddenly seemed. Iwaizumi was immersed in checking over his car and was oblivious to Oikawa’s presence.</p><p>Clearing his throat to get Iwaizumi’s attention, Oikawa looked pointedly at his large suitcase and asked, “Could you open the trunk please?”</p><p>“Ah yeah, of course,” Iwaizumi responded, jolting out of whatever conversation he had been having with his car in his mind. He rolled Oikawa’s heavy leather suitcase behind the car and opened up the trunk. But when he tried to retract the handle, it jammed. He slammed it against the gravel road a few times and grunted, “How does this work?”</p><p>“Uh,” Oikawa interjected. “Do you mind being a little more careful with that? It was a gift from my boyfriend.”</p><p>Iwaizumi momentarily stopped grumbling at the suitcase to give Oikawa an incredulous look. “Your boyfriend bought you a suitcase?” he asked in confusion.</p><p>Oikawa nodded and gave Iwaizumi a knowing look, “It’s a Vuitton.”</p><p>Iwaizumi gave a sharp laugh, “What?”</p><p>Responding haughtily, Oikawa clarified, “It’s a Louis Vuitton.” He even spoke slowly so Iwaizumi would be able to understand. Oikawa mused that maybe they didn’t have any luxury brands in small ocean villages in Ireland. It wasn’t Iwaizumi’s fault that he wasn’t as refined as Oikawa, didn’t have the same taste in things the way he and Kageyama did.</p><p>His laugh growing louder, Iwaizumi barked out, “C’mon. You named your suitcase?” Turning to the suitcase in question, he spoke loudly, “Can I give you a hand getting’ in the car, Louis? Is this alright for you, Louis?” He slammed the trunk shut with finality, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. Oikawa gave him a deadpan look and shrugged as he turned to get into the passenger seat.</p><p>As Iwaizumi climbed into the driver’s seat, the two old men from the pub last night waved at them from the side of the road. Oikawa guessed that they spent most days conversing and drinking at the pub. They shouted out “Good luck!” in unison. Oikawa waved back at them and smiled amiably, “Thanks, but I don’t believe in luck.”</p><p>“Well,” one of the old men chuckled, “you’re gonna need it if you’re driving in that thing.”</p><p>With that foreboding warning, the car sputtered to life, shuddering and jolting before the engine began to rumble steadily.</p><p>Once they got on the road, Iwaizumi began munching on a sandwich and put on a mixtape of what sounded like aggressive Irish rock. To Oikawa’s ears, the music coming out of the car speakers was tinny and irritating, but he decided to be a good guest. The seats of the car were actually pretty comfortable, and the interior smelled clean and fresh, like the sea salt breeze from the ocean.</p><p>Oikawa calculated just how far behind schedule he was and spoke to himself, “Okay, it’s only February 27<sup>th</sup>. I still have two days to get to Dublin. I might even get there before the shops close. Could get some shopping in.”</p><p>Iwaizumi interrupted Oikawa’s thoughts, “That’s why you’re so desperate to go to Dublin? To shop?”</p><p>Oikawa sighed dramatically and turned off the music to launch into a detailed description of his plan, “If you must know, I’m going to propose to my boyfriend. He’s a cardiologist at a medical conference in Dublin right now. We were applying to move into the most beautiful apartment, and I actually thought he was going to propose to me the other night, but he didn’t.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Iwaizumi prompted.</p><p>Oikawa continued, “Yeah, and Ireland has this great tradition of lucky Leap Year proposals. You know back in the day, Leap Day was the only day when women could propose to their partners, and they couldn’t refuse. But anyways, my grandma pulled a Leap Year proposal on my grandfather when they were still dating. And now everyone in my family is kind of superstitious about Leap Years. They think this Irish luck somehow made its way into our family and Leap Year proposals are especially lucky. And so I thought, why not?”</p><p>Oikawa looked over at Iwaizumi to see if he had followed the convoluted logic. He had an incredulous grin on his face, dimples and all, which Oikawa interpreted as being impressed with the tradition. Maybe he hadn’t even known about the tradition existing. His name didn’t sound very Irish anyways.</p><p>As Oikawa studied the wide smile on Iwaizumi’s face, the man let out a chuckle that soon grew into a full-bodied laugh. Thinking that Iwaizumi was sharing in his excitement, Oikawa let out a breath and began to giggle with him. He even let out a whoop which Iwaizumi echoed in between laughs. The moment felt happy, and Oikawa was glad that he and Iwaizumi could finally get along despite their rocky start. The feeling lasted until Iwaizumi gasped out between laughs that had turned into snickers, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”</p><p>Oikawa’s smile fell from his face. “No it isn’t,” he said hotly.</p><p>“Yes it is,” Iwaizumi insisted.</p><p>“No,” Oikawa defended, feeling his face burn with annoyance and maybe a little bit of embarrassment. “It’s a tradition. A romantic tradition.”</p><p>Iwaizumi scoffed cynically, “It’s a day for desperate people to trap themselves someone who clearly doesn’t want to get married. If you’re man had wanted to propose, he’d have done it already. Fact.”</p><p>This last statement had Oikawa fuming. How dare this man that he barely knew cast judgments on his relationship? In a fit of pettiness, he grabbed the sandwich from Iwaizumi’s hands and tossed it out the window. “Ha ha ha,” he laughed mockingly.</p><p>Iwaizumi gave him a sharp glare and punched the volume button, bringing the angry Irish music back, filling the car with noise. He laughed at Oikawa in revenge.</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes narrowed; fine, he could play petty all day. He quickly hit the eject button, pulled the tape out of the console, and chucked it out the window. Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in astonishment and abruptly slammed the brakes on the car, jolting both of them forward. “No on touches the music!” he exclaimed, fuming and climbing out of the car to retrieve the fallen cassette.</p><p>“Are you crazy?” Oikawa responded, raising his voice to match the volume of Iwaizumi’s shout. “You know nothing about me or Kageyama!” He followed Iwaizumi to where he stooped to collect the tape. “You’re a cynic. You know what? We’re not talking anymore. I’m not paying you to talk, I’m not paying for your opinion. I’m paying you to drive, so just get in the car and drive.” Oikawa was out of breath from the ranting and his patience had grown dangerously thin.</p><p>“Suits me, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi responded.</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes flared at the blatant insult but decided not to dignify it with a response. He knew that Iwaizumi only wanted to provoke him and get a reaction to laugh at. They trudged back to the car in silence, with only the wind howling in their ears.</p><hr/><p>Iwaizumi had had enough of this pompous and egotistical guy from whom he just happened to desperately need money. He cursed his luck for putting him in this situation. It was already ridiculous that Iwaizumi had to drive to Dublin, a city that he wanted to stay as far from as possible. But the reason for Oikawa’s trip was even more absurd. Proposing to his boyfriend when he probably didn’t even want to get married? Iwaizumi scoffed at Oikawa’s naivete and romantic notions. Sure, call him a cynic, but Iwaizumi had seen his fair share of broken relationships to know that not everything could be fixed with loud declarations of love. It was foolish of Oikawa to believe that he could force his boyfriend to spend the rest of their lives together. He would be better off going to Dublin just to shop.</p><p>And now they were blatantly ignoring each other, quietly walking back to the car. But when they returned, they found that the car was stuck. A herd of cows had wandered onto the road and were standing lazily in front of the car. Iwaizumi sighed; at least he could eat his apple since Oikawa had so rudely wasted his sandwich. He sat down on a nearby stone fence and bit into his apple.</p><p>Oikawa heard the sound and spun around to look accusingly at Iwaizumi. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Waiting,” Iwaizumi responded impassively.</p><p>“Waiting?” Oikawa gaped at him. “Aren’t you going to do anything about this? Help me move them,” Oikawa commanded.</p><p>Iwaizumi chuckled, “They’re not going to move unless they decide to on their own. I’m not going to waste my time.”</p><p>Oikawa huffed in response. “Fine, I’ll do it on my own,” he declared imperiously.</p><p>Iwaizumi looked on with amusement, as Oikawa began to wave his hands at the cows, shuffling awkwardly around them. It was clear that Oikawa was trying not to get too close to the cows, but still wanted to appear intimidating enough to convince them to clear the path. After a while of Oikawa muttering, “Good cow, now begone!” and some more arm flailing, the cows began to shuffle off into a nearby meadow, evacuating the road in front of the car.</p><p>“There,” Oikawa said in satisfaction while dusting off his hands, “That’s how you get things done.”</p><p>Iwaizumi was impressed. The man’s determination had cleared the cows faster than Iwaizumi would have expected. As Oikawa turned back toward the car, Iwaizumi gave a call of warning, “Oi, watch your step–,” before he heard a wet splat and Oikawa let out a bloodcurdling shriek that made Iwaizumi wince.</p><p>Oikawa had stepped in a pile of cow manure and was now hopping up and down on one foot, trying to detach it from his shoe through the sheer vigor with which he bounced. Iwaizumi laughed at the sight of Oikawa’s hair flopping over his eyes, his face flushed from panic and exertion. Iwaizumi tried to calm him down, “Oikawa, relax. Just throw those in the wash and they’ll be as good as new.”</p><p>Oikawa gasped at Iwaizumi’s suggestion as he hopped over to the car, “600 dollar shoes don’t go in the wash!”</p><p>Oikawa gingerly sat on the hood of the car and leaned down to scrape his shoes clean. But as he reached for his shoe, the car began to shift backwards. Iwaizumi watched, mouth agape, as the car began to roll down the hilly road they had just driven up, accelerating as it went. Iwaizumi jumped up from his seat on the fence and ran after his precious car. It was the first thing that Iwaizumi had bought when he had first landed in Ireland. It was like a trusty companion, always supporting him and only occasionally flaky. Iwaizumi couldn’t afford to lose it.</p><p>Meanwhile, Oikawa hobbled after the car, still hesitant to let his dirty shoe touch the ground. “Oh no,” he cried out in distress. “What do I do?”</p><p>“Get in the car and use the brakes,” Iwaizumi called after him.</p><p>Oikawa grabbed for the driver’s side door, and when he pulled back, the handle broke off.</p><p>“No no no no!” Iwaizumi repeated, as he struggled to get a hold of the car, only succeeding in rolling down the hill with it. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby,” Iwaizumi shouted to the car as he let go and watched it careening down the hill and off the side of the road.</p><p>“My suitcase is in there!” Oikawa cried out.</p><p>The two men chased after the car, following it into the grassy brush on the side of the road, where it continued to slide down an embankment and finally came to rest with a great splash in the stream.</p><p>Standing on the bank of the stream and staring down at the car softly burbling in the water, Iwaizumi threw his hands up in frustration and sadness. “My Renault 4, look what you’ve done to her!”</p><p>Oikawa turned toward him in astonishment, “What <em>I’ve</em> done?”</p><p>“You couldn’t just wait for the cows?” Iwaizumi accused in exasperation.</p><p>“You couldn’t just help me?” Oikawa retorted.</p><p>“It’s gonna cost at least 200 to tow her out, and it’s not coming out of my pocket,” Iwaizumi declared with finality.</p><p>“Oh, like hell!” Oikawa argued back. “You’ll have to kill me before I pay you anything.”</p><p>Iwaizumi briefly considered how much debt a murder would put him into. “Well there’s an idea,” he threw back at Oikawa’s contemptuous glare. It was only mildly gratifying to see how Oikawa’s eyes had widened at his response.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More adventures to come in the next chapter!</p><p>Let me know what you liked about this chapter in the comments! And kudos are always appreciated ❤️</p><p>Come talk to me about these nerds on tumblr: swankyandmoomoo :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iwaizumi saves the day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bit of a shorter chapter, but I promise the next one will be longer. </p><p>There are some ~feelings~ floating around here ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Iwaizumi was still mentally calculating the cost of all the car’s damages and calling a tow truck when Oikawa began to lean precariously over the stream bank, trying to reach the trunk of the car. He managed to open the latch and haul his suitcase out with only a little bit of difficulty. Then he promptly stomped back toward the road without a word and without a second glance back at Iwaizumi.</p><p>Iwaizumi jogged through the tall grass on the side of the road, following Oikawa and calling out, “Hey, where are you going?”</p><p>“Dublin,” Oikawa responded, eyes still trained on the road in front of him, determinedly forging ahead.</p><p>Iwaizumi’s heart stuttered. He couldn’t lose Oikawa now. He needed to drive Oikawa to Dublin; he needed that 500 Euro to pay back Ushijima. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he felt kind of responsible for making sure Oikawa got to Dublin safely. Despite their less than friendly interactions so far, he didn’t want to see Oikawa hurt. And helping Oikawa make it to Dublin in time to propose to his oh-so-special boyfriend would ensure that. Plus, the Irish countryside could get a little rough; there were some bad types out here. And he knew that Oikawa was a little too trusting and a little too naïve to weather it on his own. Iwaizumi needed Oikawa’s money, and he was pretty sure that Oikawa in turn needed his guidance to get to Dublin. It was a win-win situation, even if they disagreed on the topic of romance.</p><p>In desperation, Iwaizumi walked after him, away from the car that still lay in the stream. “Wait wait wait,” Iwaizumi tried to think of something, <em>anything</em>, to convince Oikawa to stay. “It’s an easy fix. We just need to find a phone, call the garage, get a tow, hop in the car, get back on the road, and we’ll be in Dublin in no time,” Iwaizumi rambled. “Just cool your jets, okay?”</p><p>Oikawa remained silent, continuing along the road. Although Oikawa didn’t say anything, he also didn’t reject Iwaizumi outright. Iwaizumi would take it. So he stayed a few steps behind Oikawa, walking along the road in the hopes that they would come across an establishment that had a phone they could use. They were really and truly deep into the Irish countryside now. Surrounding them was nothing but rolling green hills and an overcast sky. In the distance, Iwaizumi could see a river winding its way through a valley.</p><p>In any other situation, it would have been a beautiful sight—the grace of Ireland in all its natural glory. But Iwaizumi had other things on his mind. He was busy thinking of all the misfortune that had befallen him since Oikawa had barged into his pub, soaking from the rain and looking helpless and lost. It had amused Iwaizumi to trick Oikawa with the phone call, and it had been initially endearing to see how gullible Oikawa was. But the man’s strong and petulant personality had soon overshadowed Iwaizumi’s early impressions of him. Even now, Oikawa was childishly ignoring Iwaizumi. He had been amazed to discover that beneath Oikawa’s polished appearance of sophistication and class resided a somewhat insecure and defensive personality. It was clear how desperately Oikawa wanted people to like him, wanted people to agree with him, and wanted them to share his worldview. He exuded a commanding aura of always being the one who called the shots and controlled those around him. And when he didn’t get what he wanted, he was willing to fight to get the result he desired, no matter how improbable it seemed. The cow incident was a case in point.</p><p>Even more shocking to Iwaizumi, was that Oikawa would so wholeheartedly believe in the whole Leap Year proposal tradition. To Iwaizumi, who was admittedly an outsider, it didn’t make sense that someone who was as confident, as attractive, and as successful at whatever he did (case in point: willing to spend 500 Euro for a taxi ride) as Oikawa could be chasing after some guy for a proposal. Iwaizumi shook his head at the thought, his stomach feeling unsettled for some reason. This Kageyama guy must be incredible to have Oikawa hitchhiking across Ireland to propose to him.</p><p>As the thought crossed Iwaizumi’s mind, a van drove by him along the road. When Oikawa noticed the van as well, he immediately perked up and began running after it, waving his arms and shouting “Wait, hey!”</p><p>When the van slowed to a stop, Iwaizumi called to the man ahead of him, “I wouldn’t get in there if I was you.”</p><p>Oikawa jogged up to the van and turned back to snidely say, “And I care about your opinion because?”</p><p>Iwaizumi’s lips tugged down into a frown and glared back at Oikawa, “Fine, go ahead then.”</p>
<hr/><p>Oikawa had been lost in his thoughts, oscillating between pitying himself for the dire situation he currently found himself in (rolling his suitcase down a road in who-knows-where Ireland) and feeling twinges of guilt for causing Iwaizumi’s precious car to roll into that stream (in his defense, Iwaizumi should have put on the parking brake while they were on that hill). Oikawa knew he had a strong personality, but he was usually able to charm his way through any interaction. It was an anomaly for the grumpy Iwaizumi to be so impervious to Oikawa’s best efforts to be witty and charismatic. Thinking about it made Oikawa more determined to earn a genuine smile from the man trailing behind him at a distance.</p><p>But for the time being, Oikawa was giving him the silent treatment until he apologized for his rude remarks and brutish behavior from earlier. Iwaizumi’s comments about Oikawa’s proposal plan had made Oikawa’s confidence falter a little. It wasn’t that Oikawa didn’t believe that Kageyama loved him (of course Kageyama loved him, why else would they have been dating for four years?). It was more that perhaps coming all the way to Ireland to propose according to a tradition that may or may not be true was not such a good idea. Maybe it wasn’t so romantic after all and he shouldn’t rush into it all like this. Kageyama would surely get the hint from all those jewelry newsletters Oikawa had subscribed him to, and Oikawa wouldn’t have to propose to him in Dublin in two days time. But it wasn’t like Oikawa would ever admit any of his doubts to Iwaizumi.</p><p>Oikawa was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a van passing by. He called out to the driver, hoping beyond hope that whoever was inside would be a kind and generous soul, willing to help him get to Dublin. As the van rolled to a stop, Oikawa disregarded Iwaizumi’s hesitation. He was probably just being his cynical self, trying to spoil Oikawa’s rare bout of good luck.</p><p>The man who walked out of the van didn’t look much older than Oikawa himself. He was dressed in hiking clothes and sported a friendly smile. “All right there, buddy? Looking for a ride?” he greeted Oikawa.</p><p>Oikawa smiled back, relieved that the man understood the predicament he was in. “Yes, I’m going to Dublin,” Oikawa replied.</p><p>“Oh, what a coincidence?” the man exclaimed happily. “I’m going there myself.”</p><p>Relief flooded Oikawa. Here was someone who Oikawa could rely on. Based on their interactions so far, the stranger was already way nicer than a certain grumpy man who stood behind Oikawa, observing their exchange.</p><p>“Let me help you with the ol’ suitcase there,” the man gestured at the luggage behind Oikawa.</p><p>“Oh, how nice! I didn’t even have to ask,” Oikawa noted smugly while casting a pointed look back at Iwaizumi who rolled his eyes in response.</p><p>When the man slid open the van door to load the suitcase, Oikawa was greeted by two other men who looked a little rugged but otherwise harmless. “Top of the mornin’ to ya,” one man welcomed Oikawa.</p><p>The luggage was placed on the laps of the two men in the van. They looked at the leather suitcase appraisingly, and Oikawa couldn’t help feeling a burst of satisfaction when one man commented on how he could tell the suitcase was quality just by looking at it. These were people who understood sophistication, Oikawa decided. Not everyone in Ireland was as uncultured as Iwaizumi.</p><p>Oikawa turned back toward Iwaizumi who was still watching the whole interaction with an unreadable expression. He gave Iwaizumi an airy wave and said flippantly, “Well, I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but I think we both know that—” Oikawa broke off when he heard the van’s engine start up and saw it begin to drive away, accelerating down the road despite Oikawa’s protests of “Wait, no! Come back here! You can’t just—!”</p><p>He looked at Iwaizumi helplessly, hoping that maybe the man would find some kindness in his heart to help Oikawa pursue the van. Iwaizumi said nothing, only returning Oikawa’s pleading look with a righteous smirk, and began to walk down the road in the direction the van had driven off. Oikawa’s mood soured even more when Iwaizumi began to whistle tunelessly.</p><p>Oikawa followed after Iwaizumi. Because what could he do, really? Iwaizumi was the only person Oikawa knew around here. He needed Iwaizumi to find a real taxi service so he could make it to Dublin. Oikawa figured he would be lucky if he got to Dublin before dinnertime. He would sacrifice shopping if he could just get his suitcase back and find transportation.</p><p>While Iwaizumi continued to amble forward with his hands in his pockets, never sparing a glance back at Oikawa, Oikawa’s pace slowed as his feet grew tired. His expensive leather dress shoes weren’t made to walk through the Irish countryside.</p><p>Eventually, Oikawa lost sight of Iwaizumi ahead of him. He continued to trudge along, feeling sorry for himself and indignant at Iwaizumi’s abandonment. Along the side of the road, Oikawa spotted a fading sign that advertised a restaurant with live music and beer all day. He figured that it would be his best bet to finding a phone.</p><p>Oikawa opened the creaky wooden door to the sound of jaunty Irish music and clinking glassware. The first thing he saw was Iwaizumi, slouching in a worn leather booth, quietly nursing a beer. Oikawa’s heart fluttered with relief at seeing the man’s familiar face, but he hardened his gaze when Iwaizumi gave a small wave in greeting. He felt petty and needed his annoyance at Iwaizumi to ground him and to provide some comfort toward his increasing helplessness.</p><p>“There you are,” Iwaizumi called out casually. “Soon as I finish this,” he gestured to his beer, “I’ll call us a tow truck.”</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes narrowed. Where had this camaraderie been when those men had stolen his suitcase? The nerve of this guy! “Us?” Oikawa spat back, “There is no us. I am calling a real taxi, and you leave me alone.”</p><p>Iwaizumi looked back with an unreadable expression, “Okay, then.”</p><p>Oikawa turned away from Iwaizumi and approached the bar, asking for a phone to borrow. The bartender only gestured to the side of the restaurant, where someone was already caught up in a heated conversation on the payphone. Oikawa sidled over to the phone and stared intensely at the back of the man on the phone’s head, hoping that he would get the hint and cut his conversation short.</p><p>Oikawa was focusing all his mental efforts into telepathically communicating with the phone-hogger just how much he needed to make a call when his gaze drifted to the room with a pool table that had its door cracked open. The sound of raucous laughter drew his attention to the three men who were seated around a table in the room. Oikawa’s eyes widened when he recognized the three men as the one’s from the van and the suitcase that had been carelessly tossed open as his own, its contents strewn across the table. His blood boiled when he saw the men holding up his clothes with their grubby fingers and cracking jokes.</p><p>Without thinking, Oikawa barged into the room and gave them a saccharine smile. “So nice of you to look after my suitcase,” Oikawa gritted out through his teeth. “I’ll take it back now, thank you.”</p><p>One of the men rose up from his seat to meet Oikawa’s gaze. Oikawa was a pretty tall man, but this guy had just a few centimeters over him. It irked Oikawa that he had to tilt his head a little to look up at him. “Is that right, buddy?” the man taunted back.</p><p>Oikawa put on an imperious gaze, “I’ll call the Japanese ambassador.”</p><p>The other two men had risen as well, circling around Oikawa. Goddammit why were Irish people so tall?</p><p>“Oh, is this his?” one of the thieves drawled, holding up a pair of Oikawa’s floral underwear.</p><p>Oikawa gasped, feeling his face flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. He snatched it out of the man’s hands, trying to assemble a dignified expression on his face. Oikawa stuttered, his English somehow failing him in the most stressful situation possible, “Well, I just— I’m—"  </p><p>Suddenly, the door to the room swung open and all heads turned to face the newcomer. Oikawa sagged with a new kind of relief at seeing that it was Iwaizumi who had entered. With his arms crossed and a steely look, Iwaizumi addressed the three men, “Alright, fun’s over, boys. Give the man his stuff back.”</p><p>The first tall man pushed Oikawa out of the way to square up with Iwaizumi. “And who the hell are you?”</p><p>“Nobody,” Iwaizumi replied. “Just trying to keep the peace.”</p><p>The other man’s nostrils flared in response. “Well, you can keep your peace out of it,” he exclaimed, lunging forward to punch Iwaizumi square in the jaw.</p><p>Oikawa squeaked when he saw Iwaizumi fly back and land on the pool table behind him. Suddenly, Iwaizumi was rebounding and throwing punches as well. And soon enough, the other two men joined in on the fight, shouting and kicking and grunting.</p><p>Oikawa had never been much of a physical fighter. But seeing Iwaizumi retaliate with such grit and grace sparked something inside of Oikawa. He grabbed a nearby glass of beer and splashed it in one of the attackers’ face, emphasizing it with a hard kick to the man’s shin. It was kind of exhilarating. Feeling the rush of fear and excitement mixing in his veins, Oikawa let out a thrilled giggle.</p><p>Although Oikawa had got in on some of the action, Iwaizumi was holding his own against the three men. He had kneed one guy and thrown him off to the side. He punched another one who was lying unconscious, limbs sprawled across the overturned furniture. Straightening back up, he gave an unimpressed stare at the last attacker who promptly turned around and fled out the room.</p><p>Oikawa glanced over at Iwaizumi, who was leaning against the pool table, breathing heavily. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his thick and tan forearms that now bore a few scratches and bruises. If Oikawa was being honest, he was feeling a little starry-eyed and out of breath for reasons other than the brawl that had just occurred. He suddenly couldn’t pull his gaze from Iwaizumi’s furrowed brow and his soft brown eyes and his strong jawline.</p><p>“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathed, the nickname slipping out unbidden, “that was impressive.”</p><p>Iwaizumi frowned at the nickname, but then winced in pain as he held his shoulder tenderly. Oikawa stepped forward, hovering a little around Iwaizumi. He was tentative to get closer, but he also wanted to make sure that Iwaizumi hadn’t been seriously injured. Oikawa already felt bad enough that Iwaizumi had suffered bruises trying to defend Oikawa from those creepy van guys.</p><p>Just as Oikawa was reaching out to place a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder to check his injury, the restaurant owner barged into the room, breaking the deafening silence that had settled after the brawl. He barked out a single, short, “Out!” before stomping back out.</p><p>Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a glance and shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said as he slowly shifted his weight and headed out the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter is gonna be filled with some classic tropes (read: fake relationship, there was only one bed, etc).</p><p>Thank you to everyone who's read this fic so far! I really appreciate y'all and would love to hear feedback in the comments :) Kudos are always welcome too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's trains and castles and *clenches fist* developing feelings.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had so much fun writing this chapter and I hope y'all enjoy it too! It has all of my favorite romantic tropes in it and we get some DaiSuga and learn a bit more about Oikawa and there's more ~feelings~ floating around.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Iwaizumi’s thoughts were churning as he left the restaurant. His jaw was throbbing from where that first punch had landed. But his injuries weren’t the main reason he was reeling from the fight that had just ensued.</p>
<p>Why had his chest tightened so much in worry when he saw those three guys circling Oikawa and looking at him like he was their prey? He hadn’t even spared a second thought before jumping in to take their attention away from Oikawa. He probably would have done anything to make sure that wide-eyed expression of fear, stress, and panic never made its way back on to Oikawa’s face. And then, after those men had given up on the fight, Oikawa had given him that tender look, something like affection lacing the breathy ‘Iwa-chan’ he had uttered. And Iwaizumi’s pulse had fluttered against his will, his cheeks growing hot at the nickname and Oikawa’s slow approach. In that moment, Iwaizumi had wanted to pull Oikawa in close, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt in the chaos of the fight. But he had also wanted to push Oikawa far away and ignore the feelings that were threatening to spill out of him. Iwaizumi hadn’t signed up for <em>this</em> when he had agreed to drive Oikawa to Dublin.</p>
<p>Needing to pull his mind away from his rapidly spiraling thoughts, Iwaizumi glanced over at Oikawa, taking in his ruffled hair that still managed to look soft and bouncy despite the harrowing events of the day so far.</p>
<p>“Must be something special,” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath without thinking.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Oikawa hummed absentmindedly in response. “What?"</p>
<p>“Your fella,” Iwaizumi answered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and fidgety. He looked away from Oikawa, focusing on the weeds that were growing on the side of the road. Why had he wanted to bring this up again? It had clearly been a sticking point in their conversations so far.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Oikawa said, his thoughts seeming to be pulled from somewhere else. “Kageyama. He is,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’s a cardiologist,” Oikawa concluded, as if that was somehow the key to how great his boyfriend was.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi frowned at Oikawa’s somewhat lackluster response but said nothing else. The knot in his chest had loosened a little.</p>
<hr/>
<p>After walking for who knows how long, they were finally greeted by a small train station nestled at the foot of a large hill. The sky was beginning to clear up, with only a few clouds dotting the horizon. Oikawa’s mood had gotten better since they left the restaurant and he felt another spark of hope at the appearance of the train station.</p>
<p>Oikawa strode to the service window where a man who didn’t look much older than Oikawa sat. The ticket attendant looked bored, head resting heavily on his hand as he looked blankly out the window, cropped black hair waving in the breeze.</p>
<p>“Hello,” Oikawa greeted, flashing a smile. “When’s the next train to Dublin?”</p>
<p>“You’re just in time,” the man replied, amused smile on his face. “The next train leaves in two hours and forty-three minutes.”</p>
<p>Oikawa’s face fell. “Great,” he answered, mood deflating a bit. It was just his luck that he would be stuck at this random train station for another two hours and forty-three minutes. Resigned to the unmoving nature of train schedules, he settled down to wait on a bench facing the hill, atop which stood a large, crumbling stone structure. A small black and white dog had its head on its paws, resting on the ground by the bench. Iwaizumi sat down on the bench next to Oikawa and pointed to the stone ruins on the hill, “Ballycarbery Castle. It’s one of the ten wonders of Ireland, or so I’m told,” he explained. “Can only be fifteen minutes to the top.”</p>
<p>Oikawa ignored the obvious invitation. He needed to stick to a schedule, otherwise his already ruined plans would truly be ripped to pieces. “I don’t want to miss the train,” Oikawa said.</p>
<p>“Well, that’s a good point. Don’t want to miss the train,” Iwaizumi repeated. “Only two and half more hours. Time is going to fly,” he said slowly, pausing between each word.</p>
<p>“I’m staying here,” Oikawa insisted.</p>
<p>“Suit yourself,” Iwaizumi sighed, dusting off his pants and heading toward the hill.</p>
<p>Oikawa crossed his arms, resolutely staying on the bench. When Oikawa looked over, the dog had lifted its head, giving him a despondent look and then turning back toward Iwaizumi’s retreating figure. Oikawa frowned but bent over to give the dog a pat. Instead of accepting the gesture of affection, the dog barked at him, baring its teeth and growling from the back of its throat. Oikawa yelped in response, startled by its sudden hostility. He jumped out of his seat and called after Iwaizumi, “Iwa-chan, wait! I love castles.”</p>
<p>The skies had really cleared up by the time they began their ascent. The soft afternoon light illuminated the rolling hills surrounding them, casting the grassy land a vibrant green. The wind had even momentarily stopped its blowing.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful,” Oikawa breathed out.</p>
<p>After a beat, Iwaizumi abruptly said, “I’m sorry you’re not going to get to Dublin before the shops shut.”</p>
<p>Oikawa scoffed, “I have other interests besides shopping, you know. I have a life, a job.”</p>
<p>“What do you do?” Iwaizumi asked in response.</p>
<p>“I stage apartments.”</p>
<p>“Stage apartments. Now that’s…that’s,” Iwaizumi said, drifting off. “What’s that?”</p>
<p>Oikawa launched into his explanation, “Well, when somebody is selling an apartment or home, I bring stuff in and make it look as beautiful as it can look.”</p>
<p>“And they get to keep all the stuff when they buy it?” Iwaizumi clarified.</p>
<p>“No, I take it away. I’m just presenting them with possibilities. I put a sheen on it.”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi stopped walking and looked at Oikawa, “So you do your job, and they come and buy the house. And then you take it all away?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Oikawa confirmed.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a con artist,” he concluded and continued walking.</p>
<p>Oikawa gaped at his rudeness. “No, I’m not a con artist,” he said hotly. “That is just so typical of you. You think the worst of everybody.”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t,” Iwaizumi denied.</p>
<p>“Oh no?” Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “I’d love to know who you have a good word for.”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi chuckled, “I can think of a couple of good words for you.”</p>
<p>Oikawa rolled his eyes at the snide remark.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi continued, “Riddle me this. If your apartment was on fire—your beautiful apartment,” he did jazz hands in mockery, “what would you take?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“If your house was on fire and you had 60 seconds, what would you take? C’mon,” Iwaizumi said expectantly.</p>
<p>Oikawa’s squinted his eyes in thought. His mind was processing the question, jumping between possibilities but never landing on a single item. His planning binder was certainly important; he needed it for his job. Oh, but he also really loved the star map Hanamaki had given him for their graduation. It looked good in any room. And of course, he couldn’t leave behind the cuff links Kageyama had just gifted him.</p>
<p>“C’mon,” Iwaizumi prompted again, impatient with Oikawa’s lack of response. “Would it be the chihuahua on the duvet?” he said sardonically.</p>
<p>Oikawa glared at him, “I’m not playing this game with you.”</p>
<p>“There you are,” Iwaizumi said smugly, as if he had proved a point.</p>
<p>“What would <em>you</em> take?” Oikawa countered. “What would you take? Your lovely inn is on fire. What are you going to take? Flames coming up the stairs,” Oikawa elaborated. “The bottles of alcohol in the pub are exploding and you’ve got sixty seconds. What are you going to grab?”</p>
<p>“I know exactly what I’d ‘grab’,” Iwaizumi turned to face Oikawa, making finger quotes.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah? What?” Oikawa challenged.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi smirked, “Not telling you.”</p>
<p>Oikawa huffed in contempt. “You can dish it, but you can’t take it, can you?” he declared triumphantly.</p>
<p>They had made it to the rocky ruins, covered in moss and vines. The stone structure that remained felt ancient and filled with history. Oikawa was awestruck, drinking in the grand architecture and the crumbling archways that still seemed to hold their old elegance. There were dark clouds rolling back overhead, but Oikawa was distracted by the sight before him. “It’s really…it’s a castle!” he breathed out in amazement. “So, what’s the story with this place?” he looked toward Iwaizumi expectantly.</p>
<p>“Well,” Iwaizumi took a deep breath. “hundreds of years ago, there was a beautiful girl who was promised in marriage to a cranky old warlord. But the warlord was old enough to be her father. Old enough to be her grandfather,” Iwaizumi amended. “And therefore, she wasn’t in love with him. Anyway, on the night of their betrothal, whom did she meet but a handsome young warrior, and they fell madly in love at first sight. But what could she do?” Iwaizumi looked back at Oikawa with a glint in his eye. “Well, she slips sleeping potion in everyone’s drinks, and the pair of them run off together. When the warlord woke up and his fiancée was gone, well, he went crazy. He gathered his army and went off in hot pursuit. But it was the people, you know, the villagers of Ireland who took pity on the two of them. They hid them in forests and barns and castles where they’d sleep one night and move on.”</p>
<p>They reached a narrow staircase leading to the balcony of the castle. Oikawa peered up tentatively, “Is it safe?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Iwaizumi said and took Oikawa’s hand to lead the way. Oikawa felt a jolt at the sudden touch, his stomach flipping for a reason he couldn’t quite identify. The feeling of Iwaizumi’s hand was quite nice, his calloused fingers and rough palm gently leading Oikawa forward. Oikawa could only stare at the back of Iwaizumi’s head in a daze as he tried to follow the story falling from Iwaizumi’s lips.</p>
<p>“And sleep was all they did,” Iwaizumi continued. “Because the young warrior was a good man, and he was suffering from the guilt of two-timing the old warlord. And out of respect for the old man, you know, didn’t take it any further.”</p>
<p>They had reached the top level of the castle, able to overlook the hill they had just climbed up and the surrounding land. It was truly beautiful, pure green coating the hills and plains in the distance. And the sun was peeking out from behind a gray cloud, making it all seem a little ethereal. Oikawa nodded distractedly. “I get it,” he responded to where Iwaizumi’s story had left off, prompting him to continue.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah?” Iwaizumi said behind Oikawa. “And then they came to this castle,” Iwaizumi gestured around them, “and this view.” Iwaizumi looked out at the Irish landscape fondly.</p>
<p>“It’s really beautiful,” Oikawa agreed. He pulled his gaze away from the magnificent scenery and observed Iwaizumi, deep in thought, eyes unreadable as he looked into the distance. Oikawa couldn’t help but stare at Iwaizumi’s profile, tracing the soft smile lines with his eyes. He blinked quickly, feeling a little caught, when Iwaizumi turned to look at Oikawa. But he didn’t look away; something in Iwaizumi’s gaze was holding him place.</p>
<p>“And it’s said, you know, that unable to resist such beauty, they consummated their love here,” Iwaizumi said seriously, never breaking eye contact.</p>
<p>Oikawa could feel the tips of his ears burn with the blunt way Iwaizumi had spoken. The thought of ‘consummating love’ flitted through his mind, the princess and warrior replaced with him and Iwaizumi, and his face began to flushed. He pushed the image away and scoffed. “Oh my god, you’re hitting on me,” he said incredulously, realizing that he had fallen for Iwaizumi’s smooth words and intense gaze the same way he had fallen for the phone prank back at the pub.</p>
<p>“I’m what?” Iwaizumi asked back, just as incredulous and chuckling.</p>
<p>Oikawa shook his head in disbelief. “<em>I’m</em> the young woman, well man, on the eve of his engagement that can’t resist a handsome stranger? Oh, come on, you didn’t honestly think that would actually work, did you?”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi frowned at Oikawa’s accusation. “Don’t flatter yourself, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said with a glare. “The story’s true and it sure as shit isn’t about you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no? Iwa-chan,” Oikawa drawled, “you can admit it. I won’t tell.” Oikawa emphasized his statement with a wink.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi’s frown only seemed to deepen. “No, you arrogant idiot!”</p>
<p>Oikawa was about to send a retort back, but suddenly the sky opened up with a crack of thunder and heavy sheets of rain began to pour down on them. He sputtered in the sudden cold and damp. In the distance, he heard the train horn blow, announcing its arrival. His heart quickened; he had almost forgotten about the train. How had they spent nearly three hours at the castle already?</p>
<p>They rushed down the hill, trying to descend safely as the rain made the ground increasingly slippery with mud. Oikawa had given up on trying to keep his clothes clean and was just trying to reach the train station as fast as he could. But all of a sudden, he lost his footing and went tumbling, skidding down the hill on his back, and eventually landing in a giant puddle of muddy water. He groaned. His legs were sore, and he didn’t even want to look at the state of his clothes. Iwaizumi reached down to offer him a hand, but Oikawa slapped it away, angry and frustrated that he had agreed to visit the castle with Iwaizumi. “You just had to take me up there, didn’t you?” he muttered darkly. “One of the seven wonders of Ireland?”</p>
<p>Oikawa jogged the last few meters to the train platform, but the train was already pulling away from the station at that point. He could feel the hot pricks of tears building up. Today had been much too overwhelming for Oikawa; for someone who loved neatness, planning, and knowing exactly what he could expect, the events of the day had been chaotic beyond imagination and now he was spiraling into despair, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. The station attendant looked on in pity. Even Iwaizumi had an apology in his eyes as he watched Oikawa’s face slowly crumble in disappointment and frustration.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The storm had blown over after half an hour, and the sky was now cast a dull gray, clouds slowly dispersing on the horizon. Iwaizumi had felt sorry for Oikawa as the train had pulled away from the station. It was clear how much hope Oikawa had put on boarding that train and making it to Dublin. And Iwaizumi had felt especially uncomfortable watching Oikawa sniffle and hold in his tears. He felt even worse that he had been the one to convince Oikawa to visit the castle. They were lucky that the station attendant, a kind man named Daichi, happened to also run a bed and breakfast nearby, so they could stay the night and continue their journey the next day.</p>
<p>The bed and breakfast was a quaint little cottage, pretty typical of old Irish houses. The interior was homey and cluttered with old paintings and knick knacks. They were greeted by a man with ash blond hair and a beauty mark under his left eye, whom Daichi introduced as his husband Suga. He welcomed them in, took in their drenched appearance, smeared with mud, and said kindly, “Oh, you poor dears! You’re in luck actually. We just had two backpackers come by earlier looking for lodging, but they weren’t married!” He explained, “Our landlord, who’s renting out the house to us, is really strict about what kinds of customers we have. He’s pretty old-fashioned, so he requires that all couples be married.”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi and Oikawa shared a glance, eyes widening and a pained smile passing between them. Iwaizumi’s heart quickened its pace. He had thought they had gotten through the worst of the day, but pretending to be married to Oikawa might actually kill him. He was not mentally, emotionally, or physically prepared to act all lovey-dovey in front of this nice couple that was taking them in for the night.</p>
<p>Suga didn’t seem to notice their silent exchange or Iwaizumi’s internal crisis and clapped his hands together happily and asked, “So, you are Mr. and Mr…?”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi and Oikawa spoke at the same time, “Iwaizumi—”</p>
<p>“Oikawa—”</p>
<p>They shared a sharp look with each other, glaring at the other’s misstep. Oikawa cleared his throat, “Oikawaizumi.”</p>
<p>“We haven’t been married long,” Iwaizumi explained conspiratorially. “It’s still quite a mouthful for him.”</p>
<p>Oikawa settled an arm across Iwaizumi’s shoulders, pulling him in close and gripping a little too tight in retaliation. “But it’s Tooru and…” Oikawa pointedly looked over at Iwaizumi and prompted him to introduce himself. Iwaizumi straightened up, trying to put a little more distance between himself and Oikawa. He realized they had never learned each other’s given names. “Hajime,” he supplied, giving a smile to Suga and ignoring Oikawa staring intently at him from the side.</p>
<p>“Lovely! Let’s get you to your room then.” Suga led them down a cramped hall to a small room.</p>
<p>“Thanks for getting the bags, sunshine,” Oikawa said sweetly, blowing a kiss over his shoulder as he left his luggage by Iwaizumi and followed Suga down the hall.</p>
<p>“Of course, sugar,” Iwaizumi gritted out through his teeth while still keeping a smile on his face. He rolled his eyes once Oikawa had turned back around.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Iwaizumi stared accusingly at the bed in front of him. There wasn’t anything wrong with the bed, per say. It looked clean and the comforter looked pretty soft. But the problem was that there was only one bed. “Well,” Oikawa finally said, “you’re not sleeping in the bed with me, Mr. Oikawaizumi.”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at Oikawa and smirked. “Maybe <em>you’re</em> not sleeping in the bed with me, darling.” He flopped onto the bed, stretching his limbs as he yawned.</p>
<p>Oikawa shot back, “Fine, we’ll flip for it, <em>darling</em>.”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi shrugged, “Okay, fair’s fair. Heads I win, tails you lose.”</p>
<p>Oikawa flipped the coin. He pouted when he saw that the coin showed heads.</p>
<p><em>Cute</em>, Iwaizumi thought before he could stop himself. “Heads it is,” Iwaizumi sighed as if feeling sorry for Oikawa. “Shame,” he said, “You can sleep in the shower.”</p>
<p>Oikawa was still pouting unhappily but he stomped over to the bathroom to investigate. As it turned out, the bathroom was divided from the room by only a shower curtain, and it was kind of a shower, toilet, and sink all crammed into one small space. Oikawa pulled open the curtain and huffed out, “Fine, just so long as I don’t have to sleep anywhere near you.”</p>
<p>With the sound of the shower turning on, Iwaizumi settled back onto the bed, looking around the room. It was sparsely furnished with just a wardrobe and nightstand, but there were nice watercolor paintings decorating the walls. He was glad that he had claimed the bed to himself, albeit not entirely honestly. But it was better than having to spend a night in close quarters with Oikawa. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel entirely comfortable sleeping next to Oikawa—no, of course that wasn’t it—it was that he could already imagine how horrible of a bedmate Oikawa would be. He seemed like the type to hog all the covers and use someone else’s face as a pillow. Iwaizumi shook his head, amused at the picture of Oikawa sprawled across the bed, drooling on his pillow.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Oikawa humming softly in the shower. When he looked over, however, he did not expect to see the shadowy silhouette of Oikawa’s figure behind the curtain. Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, and he was glad no one was in the room to see the way the tips of his ears burned or notice how his heart stuttered at the sight. Iwaizumi willed himself to not linger on the curve of Oikawa’s hips, or the way his movements looked elegant even while shampooing his hair. He had another thought of <em>How is he so cute?</em> when he saw Oikawa shimmy his hips and dance in time with his singing. He closed his eyes and dropped back onto the bed, trying but failing beautifully at erasing that image from his mind.</p>
<p>Barging out of the shower, one towel wrapped around his waist and another around his head, Oikawa stormed over to Iwaizumi, face red from the hot water. “You lying, deceiving, son of a—get up, get up!” he said, as he nudged Iwaizumi out of his comfortable position on the bed.</p>
<p>“What?” Iwaizumi said groggily, having just woken from a light nap.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Oikawa scoffed. “Heads I win, tails you lose?”</p>
<p>“Ah, you finally got that?”</p>
<p>“Liars forfeit,” Oikawa said resolutely. “And go take a shower, you smell.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>While Iwaizumi was in the shower, Suga had stopped by to announce that he would be preparing tripe for dinner. Oikawa had shuddered at the thought of eating cow stomach and so had offered to cook dinner for all of them to repay Suga and Daichi’s kindness. He didn’t stop to consider that he was actually quite terrible at cooking and that he had only eaten a cold sandwich made by Iwaizumi.</p>
<p>So now the two men found themselves in the garden, pulling vegetables from the soft dirt and planning for the meal of roast chicken. Oikawa was methodically comparing carrots, trying to find three perfectly medium-sized carrots when Iwaizumi cut through his concentration. “What the hell are you doing now?” he asked.</p>
<p>Oikawa looked up from where he was squatting over a pile of carrots. “The recipe says three medium carrots,” he explained. “But some of these are too small to be medium, and I’d say this one is more of a large carrot than a—”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi had walked over and broken the tip off the large carrot, handing it back to Oikawa. “There, now you have three medium carrots.”</p>
<p>Oikawa frowned at Iwaizumi, saying defensively, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to be precise.”</p>
<p>“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you stop trying to control everything in the known universe?” Iwaizumi sighed. “It’s dinner. Have a little faith. It’ll all work out.”</p>
<p>Oikawa’s jaw tightened. “Heard that one before.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well maybe you should listen."</p>
<p>Oikawa scoffed. “It’ll all work out. Yeah, my dad was the king of ‘it’ll all work out’. Time shares in exotics places, mobile video stores. Whatever was the next big thing, all of our money went there. But it’s alright, it’ll all work out,” Oikawa said with fake happiness. His voice became quiet, “Cut to me working two part-time jobs after school and us getting our house repossessed on Christmas Eve. So, you will forgive me if I don’t listen.”</p>
<p>Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi, who had a strange faraway look in his expression. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raw and apologetic. “A father’s someone you should be able to rely on, you know?”</p>
<p>Oikawa sniffed and blinked rapidly, touched by Iwaizumi’s sincerity. “Anyway,” Oikawa let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding, “dinner. We’ve got cabbages, a leek, three medium carrots,” he said with a small smile.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi walked over to the fenced area where chickens were running around, pecking at corn kernels on the ground. He lifted one hen and brought it back to where Oikawa was waiting with the vegetables. Oikawa smiled gently, cooing at the clucking chicken. With one fluid motion from Iwaizumi, the chicken went silent. Oikawa gaped at Iwaizumi in horror. At Iwaizumi’s innocent shrug, Oikawa rolled his eyes and walked back into the kitchen.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi followed Oikawa into the kitchen, chicken still in hand. Oikawa had begun washing vegetables when Iwaizumi said, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had chicken stew before.”</p>
<p> “Of course I have.”</p>
<p>“Then I’m wondering where the hell you think that chickens come from?” Iwaizumi prodded.</p>
<p>Oikawa gave Iwaizumi an unamused look and said, “I know, I know. You just surprised me.” He added softly, “You keep doing that.”</p>
<p>They began preparing the vegetables and roast chicken, falling into an easy rhythm of Oikawa chopping and Iwaizumi cooking. It turned out that Iwaizumi did all of the cooking at the pub, so he was quite comfortable working in the kitchen. When they started cooking, Iwaizumi took the lead and showed Oikawa how to adjust the heat for sautéing vegetables and what seasonings to include in the chicken. He blamed his flushed cheeks on the heat from the stove when Iwaizumi had placed his hands over Oikawa’s, showing Oikawa how to hold the pan properly when sautéing vegetables. And if Oikawa was being honest with himself, it was fun and relaxing; feelings Oikawa had never associated with cooking before. He had always found cooking to be difficult and a chore, always struggling to follow the recipe as the food was burning away on the stove. But with Iwaizumi, it felt different. Cooking came naturally and was more like a gentle rhythm for Iwaizumi. Oikawa could put the recipe book aside and rely on Iwaizumi’s instruction to navigate different preparation techniques and cooking times. Their conversation lulled in and out while they focused on individual tasks, and the fragrant aromas of herbs, garlic, and wine filtered through their laughs. Soon enough, the food was done.</p>
<p>They settled down for dinner, joined by Suga, Daichi, the landlord, Frank, and his wife, Martha. The conversation at the table flowed easily and the warmth of the wine and good food put everyone in a good mood.</p>
<p>“The chicken is wonderful,” Martha exclaimed.</p>
<p>Oikawa preened at the compliment, “I know, and I’m terrible at chicken.” He gave a small laugh. “Kageyama always says I make it too dry.”</p>
<p>Martha’s brows furrowed. “Kageyama…?”</p>
<p>“Oh, Kageyama,” Oikawa suddenly realized his mistake and looked over at Iwaizumi for help, “our…”</p>
<p>“Our next-door neighbor,” Iwaizumi finished for him. Oikawa smiled, relieved that he had been able to cover for Oikawa’s slip up.</p>
<p>“Who sometimes comes by for dinner,” Oikawa added.</p>
<p>Iwaizumi chuckled. “Mhm yeah, lovely old soul. Gets confused sometimes, though. Says he’s a cardiologist,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes for emphasis and earning a laugh from around the table. “He’s got a little bit of a thing for him,” Iwaizumi said conspiratorially, jerking a thumb at Oikawa.</p>
<p>Oikawa rolled his eyes but said nothing, not wanting their lie to be exposed. He turned to Frank and asked, “Are these dishes antique?” Oikawa had noticed them when he had been setting the table. He had pulled some of the more decorative pieces from their place on the wall and used them as centerpieces and place settings for dinner.</p>
<p>“Yes, antique, just like me,” he winked at Oikawa. “They were a wedding present.”</p>
<p>Martha scoffed in mock offense. “It’s only been 44 years, you old rascal!”</p>
<p>Frank chuckled and leaned over to give his wife a loving kiss. “See,” he declared grandly, “that’s what it takes to be married for 44 years. The kiss. Always kiss like it’s the first time <em>and</em> the last time.” He gave a knowing look at the two couples sitting at the table.</p>
<p>Suga and Daichi looked at each other fondly, leaning in towards each other. But instead of a light peck like Oikawa had been expecting, both men closed their eyes and kissed deeply, hands tangled around shoulders. They seemed to have forgotten about the others seated at the table when their kiss turned passionate and open-mouthed. Oikawa shifted uncomfortably in his seat and glanced over at Iwaizumi, who was resolutely staring at the drink in his hand. Martha seemed to also be taken aback by the sheer aggression of their display and cleared her throat loudly. Suga and Daichi jolted apart, looking a little guilty but their gazes still lingered on each other.</p>
<p>“Well, come on then,” Frank said.</p>
<p>“Sorry?” Iwaizumi said, confusion written across his face.</p>
<p>“Well, I’ve kissed my wife, and Suga has <em>certainly</em> kissed Daichi.” Suga blushed at Frank’s obvious jibe.</p>
<p>Oikawa quickly spoke up, hoping to hide his sudden nervousness. “Oh, we’re fine.” He waved his hand as if brushing the suggestion away. “We did it earlier. Kissed, that is.”</p>
<p>“Done and dusted,” Iwaizumi nodded along.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on!” Frank pressed.</p>
<p>Oikawa looked over at Iwaizumi helplessly, hoping that the other man would say something to get them out of this mess. Saying nothing, Iwaizumi began to lean toward Oikawa, bringing his arm to wrap around Oikawa’s shoulders. Oikawa’s heart sped up at how close the man now was, their faces centimeters apart. He could smell the vanilla soap from the shower Iwaizumi had taken earlier mixing with the heady scent of wine on his breath. He blushed even harder when Iwaizumi planted a quick peck on Oikawa’s cheek, his stubble a little scratchy on Oikawa’s soft skin. “Oh,” Oikawa breathed out, pushing away the feeling of his stomach clenching in disappointment. “That’s perfect,” he said, patting Iwaizumi on the shoulder.</p>
<p>Martha laughed, “If that’s what you call a kiss, I’m surprised you’re still married.”</p>
<p>Daichi interjected, “They’re just shy, that’s all.”</p>
<p>Oikawa nodded vigorously, throwing a grateful look at Daichi for saving them.</p>
<p>“You’re among friends,” Frank assured. “You’re young and in love. Anyone can see that.”</p>
<p>Oikawa rolled his eyes at Frank’s statement. They had really fooled the old man with their acting.</p>
<p>Oikawa heard Iwaizumi let out a breath, and suddenly he was being guided by Iwaizumi’s hands, one palm cupping his cheek and the other resting firmly on his shoulder blade. When Iwaizumi pressed his lips softly to Oikawa’s, he could only blink at Iwaizumi’s closeness, drinking in the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and how his eyelashes rested gently on his cheeks. The kiss was gentle and tender and sweet, and it opened something inside of Oikawa. Without thinking, Oikawa closed his eyes and pressed back gently, noticing how soft Iwaizumi’s lips were. Oikawa wasn’t sure whether he had been the one to deepen the kiss or not, but he found himself bringing his hands up to cup Iwaizumi’s cheek and brush through the soft short strands of hair at the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck. He had turned in his seat to fully face Iwaizumi, leaning in towards the other man. Time seemed to stop as Oikawa became lost in the sensations of having Iwaizumi so close.</p>
<p>When Iwaizumi pulled away, Oikawa leaned forward to chase the taste of Iwaizumi’s soft lips, gaze lingering on his bottom lip, red and swollen. Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked at each other, faces still only centimeters apart, and blinked a few times, breaking the moment. Oikawa gingerly pulled his hands away from their place on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, unsure of what to do with them. Iwaizumi held up his hands as if to casually display the kiss they had just shared, conveying that their kiss had been nothing out of the ordinary, business as usual.</p>
<p>Oikawa resettled onto his own seat, heart still beating fast. He leaned away from Iwaizumi and picked up his glass of wine to take a sip. He needed to do something with his hands, and he hoped the movement would hide how flushed his face felt.</p>
<p>“Ah, now <em>that’s</em> a kiss,” Frank said approvingly.</p>
<hr/>
<p>As Oikawa settled under the covers, the shower curtain was pulled aside and Iwaizumi said with a small frown, “It’s quite wet. Show a little mercy, would you?”</p>
<p>Oikawa gave a small laugh, “Fine, but one snore and you’re back in the shower.”</p>
<p>“Great,” Iwaizumi said, jogging back over to the bed and throwing himself in, making the mattress creak as he got settled.</p>
<p>Oikawa was lying on his back as he thought out loud, “Who’d have thought it’d take two days to get to Dublin?”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi had his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ll have to charge you an overnighter, by the way.”</p>
<p>“Surprise,” Oikawa deadpanned.</p>
<p>“100,” Iwaizumi said.</p>
<p>“50,” Oikawa countered.</p>
<p>“75 it is,” Iwaizumi concluded. “Running total, 675.”</p>
<p>Oikawa turned on his side, facing away from Iwaizumi. “Fine,” he said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice, “if it’s all about money for you, then 675 it is. Good night.”</p>
<p>Iwaizumi reached out to turn off the lamp and settled onto his side, facing away from Oikawa. “Night,” he responded quietly.</p>
<p>Despite the exhaustion Oikawa felt from the stressful events of the day, he couldn’t fall asleep. He knew he was overthinking, but his mind kept replaying the look on Iwaizumi’s face after their kiss at dinner. Yes, he had looked dazed (as Oikawa probably had as well), but there had been something else in his expression that had squeezed Oikawa’s heart painfully tight. There had been a mix of emotions flitting through Iwaizumi’s eyes, like some combination of tenderness, sadness, and an unreadable, unnamable thing that Oikawa’s subconscious kept labelling as love. But no, that couldn’t be right. From every outward interaction, Iwaizumi disliked Oikawa. He called him insulting nicknames; he didn’t really care about helping Oikawa get to Dublin, he was just in it for the money; and he didn’t understand why Oikawa wanted to propose to Kageyama on Leap day.</p>
<p>Oikawa shifted restlessly, returning to staring at the ceiling. Beside him, he could feel Iwaizumi also moving around on the bed, mattress creaking with each slight rustle. With the room dimly illuminated by moonlight streaming in from the window, Oikawa turned to look at Iwaizumi. He found that Iwaizumi was already facing Oikawa, an unreadable expression on his face. When their eyes met, Iwaizumi abruptly rolled over so his back was to Oikawa. Oikawa flipped over to face away from Iwaizumi as well, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to fall asleep. Only listening to the rhythm of Iwaizumi’s breaths did Oikawa finally drift to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ok I've actually never written anything romantic before, so please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I would love to hear feedback in the comments and kudos are always welcome :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>IwaOi as wedding crashers.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read this fic so far! It means so much to me and makes me really excited to get updates out as soon as possible! Hope you enjoy this chapter--there's lots of *tension*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Iwaizumi had fallen asleep quickly last night, embracing sleep as a respite from his emotional turmoil. But even in his dreams, he hadn’t been able to escape. His subconscious had only replayed the scene that was in his mind as he had fallen asleep. But in his dream, instead of turning his back to Oikawa like he had last night, he had held his gaze and reached out to trace the line of Oikawa’s jaw. He had felt the softness of Oikawa’s skin and the way he shivered under Iwaizumi’s touch. He had brought Oikawa in for a kiss, this one slow and languid, as if they had all the time in the world. The sensations from their kiss at dinner supplied the details to Iwaizumi’s brain: the feeling of Oikawa’s plush lips, the dusty pink of his cheeks, the breathy way he whispered Iwaizumi’s name. Unlike the kiss at dinner, Oikawa had pressed in close to Iwaizumi, much closer than at dinner, reaching out to caress his cheek and card through his hair. Oikawa had whispered ‘Iwa-chan’ as he placed small kisses on Iwaizumi’s lips and jaw. Their legs had tangled as Oikawa continued to mouth against Iwaizumi’s skin, following the curve of his neck. His imagination had all-too-easily filled in the content of the dream with agonizing detail, leaving Iwaizumi desperately wanting the real thing. He didn’t want to admit that it had been the best dream he had had in a while.</p><p>When Iwaizumi woke up, Oikawa’s scent still clung to him from the dream, minty and woody at the same time. He soon realized that it was because his face was pressed into Oikawa’s hair. During the night, he had somehow moved over to Oikawa’s side of the bed and now had his arm wrapped around Oikawa’s torso, his chest pressed to Oikawa’s back. Gingerly lifting his fingers from Oikawa’s arm, Iwaizumi looked accusingly at his own hand, feeling betrayed by his unconscious actions and a little guilty for indulging in his desires. He quietly rose from the bed, trying not to wake Oikawa.</p><p>While waiting for Oikawa to get ready, Iwaizumi busied himself in the kitchen. He went to the backyard to collect some eggs and fried them up with bacon. As he put bread into the toaster, he heard Oikawa using the house landline to call Kageyama. What little he could hear of their conversation was Oikawa complaining about how traumatic the journey had been so far.</p><p>Iwaizumi padded down the hallway, breakfast tray for Oikawa in hand. He stilled when he heard Oikawa exclaim, “Everything is working out for us! I’m so excited…I miss you too.”</p><p>Iwaizumi’s chest tightened painfully. His feet carried him back into the kitchen where he set down the breakfast tray and sat heavily in his seat. He wiped a hand over his face. He knew he was in too deep—had known it since he had fought those suitcase thieves and especially so after their kiss at dinner. What was he thinking, falling for a man who was about to be engaged, who was excited about being engaged to his perfect cardiologist boyfriend and their beautiful expensive apartment?</p><p>Oikawa’s cheerful, “Good morning,” broke through his thoughts.</p><p>“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, reaching down to put on his shoes and looking anywhere but Oikawa’s face and his satisfied smile.</p><p>Oikawa glanced at the breakfast that Iwaizumi had prepared. “Oh, is this for me?”</p><p>Shrugging, Iwaizumi said casually, “Yeah,” hoping it came off as an “Oh, that? That’s just breakfast I cooked for anyone who wanted it, and not especially for you because I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.”</p><p>Daichi walked into the kitchen. “Sleep well, lovebirds?” he asked, giving Iwaizumi a conspiratorial grin. Iwaizumi gave a pained smile back.</p><p>Oikawa innocently responded, “Yes, thank you.”</p><p>“What’s on the agenda for today, then?” Daichi asked.</p><p>“It’s off to Dublin for me,” Oikawa announced happily.</p><p>“Oh, you can’t do that now,” Daichi chided. “It’s Sunday and no trains run on Sunday.”</p><p>“For god’s sake,” Oikawa sighed. “I have to be in Dublin by the 29<sup>th</sup>. That’s tomorrow.”</p><p>Iwaizumi piped up, sliding back easily into teasing Oikawa, “And why is that again, darling?”</p><p>Oikawa fixed him with an unamused glare. “Okay fine. Daichi, you have a car, right?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“I would be willing to pay you a substantial amount of money if you would maybe drive me to Dublin?” Oikawa asked insistently. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. He should have known Oikawa would try the exact same thing that had worked on him.</p><p>“It’s not about the money,” Daichi said apologetically. “Suga has the car and he’s taken it to do his weekly shopping. He won’t be back for a while.”</p><p>Oikawa frowned. “Why? Where is he?”</p><p>“Dublin,” Daichi said matter-of-factly.</p><hr/><p>They were back on the road heading towards the nearest bus station when Oikawa felt a small, hard object hit the back of his head. He glared at Iwaizumi who was walking behind him. Iwaizumi looked up from where he had been observing the ground, deep in thought. “What?”</p><p>Oikawa turned around, thinking he had gotten the message. Not a second later, another hard object hit him again. “Knock it off!” he whined. Just as soon as he had said it, dozens more small, hard objects rained down from the sky, pelting Oikawa and stinging his cheeks.</p><p>“It’s hailstones.”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Oikawa laughed in disbelief.</p><p>“Come on, run!” Iwaizumi broke into a jog, heading toward an old church up ahead. He ducked his head to avoid the hailstones. “Come on! It’s goddamn Murphy’s Law with you, isn’t it?”</p><p>Oikawa giggled and Iwaizumi started laughing along, caught up in the sheer ridiculousness of it all. They raced to the church entrance and shoved open the door, thankful to have found shelter so quickly. “Jesus Christ,” Iwaizumi exclaimed at the hailstones as the door banged open to reveal an ongoing wedding ceremony. The wedding guests sitting in the pews stared agape at the two men who had just barged into what looked like a lovely ceremony.</p><p>“Is Lord,” Oikawa continued after a beat of silence, putting on his most charming and pious smile.</p><p>The priest conducting the ceremony spoke up, “Have you any just cause for why this man and this woman should not be joined together in holy matrimony?”</p><p>Oikawa just shook his head mutely, afraid of further ruining the bride and groom’s special day. Iwaizumi responded for the both of them, “No, Father, carry on. I’m sure that they know what they’re doing.”</p><p>The priest smiled kindly back, “In that case, you’re very welcome. Why don’t you sit down?”</p><p>After the ceremony, the wedding party moved to a grassy area by a beautiful river. Under the big white tent, the wedding guests were laughing and drinking, sharing old stories and making new acquaintances. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were seated at a table with old and distant relatives of the bride (or was it the groom?).</p><p>“Come on. Dublin,” Iwaizumi reminded Oikawa. “We should be making tracks.”</p><p>Oikawa dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “No, the priest is going to give us a ride to the bus station when this is over.”</p><p>“We can walk,” Iwaizumi looked at him, unimpressed.</p><p>“Nuh uh,” Oikawa pouted, “I’m not going to ruin these shoes by walking another four hours. Besides, look how beautiful it all is.”</p><p>Iwaizumi considered the reception for a moment and said, “You know, I kinda hate weddings.”</p><p>Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Why, grumpy Iwa-chan? Because people are in love? That’s so offensive to you?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said sarcastically.</p><p>Oikawa considered the man sitting in front of him. There seemed to be so much that Iwaizumi kept hidden inside. He seemed like the type of person who didn’t easily let others in, someone who wasn’t fully known by many people, if any. This realization only made Oikawa want to dig deeper, to know who Iwaizumi was at the core. Oikawa wanted Iwaizumi to show some emotion other than his usual grumbling, surly personality. He had gotten a glimpse of that when Iwaizumi had actually apologized for Oikawa’s father’s failings, as if he had really wanted to ease Oikawa’s pain. He had slipped past Iwaizumi’s rough exterior when they had been cooking, taking turns sipping from an open bottle of wine and laughing about their misadventures. Those moments had made him feel connected to the other man, real and alive in a way that Oikawa had nearly forgotten. And now he wanted more.</p><p>“You know,” Oikawa began. “You have all these random opinions and a bad attitude. What do you know?” he challenged. “You’re clearly not married, and you obviously have never been engaged.”</p><p>Iwaizumi cut him off, “Actually I have. Once.” He picked up his glass and downed his drink, looking away from Oikawa.</p><p>Oikawa peered at Iwaizumi, feeling a little guilty for making Iwaizumi uncomfortable. But that little nugget of information only fueled his curiosity. Before he could further pester Iwaizumi about his past, the bride tapped on the microphone, getting everyone’s attention.</p><p>“I hate to interrupt a good party,” the bride said into the microphone, “but I want to thank my husband. And I want to say: may you never steal, lie, or cheat.” She took a deep breath. “But if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows. And if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life. And if you must cheat, then please cheat death, because I couldn’t live a day without you.” She gave everyone a smile and looked tenderly at her husband, “Cheers!”</p><p>Oikawa could feel himself getting choked up. Who gave this woman the right to pen such beautiful vows? He inhaled deeply, trying to will the tears from slipping out. When he looked over at Iwaizumi, the man had already risen from his seat and was walking out of the tent.</p><p>Following after Iwaizumi, Oikawa found him leaning against a tree, squinting out at the river, an unreadable expression on his face.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked softly.</p><p>“Yeah, grand,” Iwaizumi answered brusquely. “It’s just hot in there.”</p><p>Oikawa looked at him understandingly, “Do you want to talk about?”</p><p>Iwaizumi gave him an annoyed look, “You’re in Ireland, so just have a drink and shut up.”</p><p>Rearing back, Oikawa said defensively, “I was just trying to help.”</p><p>Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Help? That’s hilarious coming from the man who’s so desperate, he’s going all the way to Dublin to make the most important decision of his life based on some ridiculous tradition, which frankly is full of shit. So thank you, but it’s not I who needs help, okay?”</p><p>Oikawa’s lips pulled down, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over him. He had thought they were past this. Sure, maybe they didn’t quite understand each other, but he had thought that Iwaizumi respected his decision and had agreed to disagree. “It’s not full of shit,” he said hotly as he walked back toward the reception. “It’s romantic.” Before he left, he turned back and said determinedly, trying to keep the pout out of his voice, “It’s really, really romantic.”</p><p>While Oikawa left Iwaizumi by the river to brood, the day had bled into evening and the wedding reception had morphed into an Irish dance party. Oikawa was sitting at a table by himself, nursing his third (or was it his fourth?) cocktail, his face feeling flushed from the alcohol and the heat of so many bodies crammed into a small space. The live band on the stage was playing some folky Irish jig and everyone around him was clapping and singing along. He was still sulky from bickering with Iwaizumi. It hadn’t been his intention to pry too far into Iwaizumi’s personal history, but the man had been <em>so</em> <em>unnecessarily </em>prickly about it. It refreshed Oikawa’s memory of how rude Iwaizumi had been when they had first met, but Oikawa couldn’t even find it in himself to get annoyed. He just wanted Iwaizumi to stop being angry at him.</p><p>Oikawa’s heart lifted when he saw Iwaizumi making his way toward Oikawa, weaving through the crowd of dancers. Iwaizumi gave him a look that Oikawa understood as an apology and said, “I’m not good at weddings.”</p><p>Flashing a reassuring smile, Oikawa pointed at his empty glasses. “They’re better with a couple of martinis.”</p><p>The lead singer of the band announced that they were playing a special request for the bridesmaids to do a traditional Irish partner dance. Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa, “Do you wanna go?”</p><p>Oikawa shook his head and chuckled. “No, I don’t river dance.”</p><p>Iwaizumi quirked an eyebrow. “Do you never let loose?”</p><p>Oikawa sniffed in offense but got out of his seat, smiling. “Yes, in my way, I do.”</p><p>Iwaizumi took Oikawa’s hand and led him to the dance floor. “This is an easy one,” he explained. “You’ll pick it up. Just follow them.” He gestured at a group of people already joined at the hands and dancing.</p><p>As the song picked up, Iwaizumi guided Oikawa around the dance floor, showing him when to jump and spin around and where to move. He had to admit that he was having fun, enjoying the moment and not worrying too much about whether he was any good at dancing (he hoped he didn’t look too foolish in front of Iwaizumi, though). Oikawa couldn’t contain the wide smile that made its way onto his lips. As they spun around the dance floor, cocooned in laughter, a thumping beat, and loud strings, they changed partners a few times, but always, their eyes found each other between the dancing bodies. Oikawa sunk into the thrill of twirling with the music, feeling Iwaizumi’s gaze following his movements from across the room.</p><p>As he lost himself in the blur of lights and faces, Oikawa felt himself stumble. Reaching out to catch himself on a nearby table, he knocked over someone in the crowd. When Oikawa sat up, he realized that he had pushed the bride over. She was stunned, but otherwise unharmed as people ushered her to take a seat.</p><p>Oikawa’s face flooded with embarrassment. He walked over to the bride, hoping she wasn’t too angry. “I’m really sorry,” he said.</p><p>The bride gave him a stern glare but then broke into a smile. “Forget about it. At least it wasn’t my husband.”</p><p>Relieved, Oikawa chuckled, “Haha, right? At least it wasn’t him.”</p><p>Perhaps he had had one drink too many and the spinning in circles hadn’t exactly helped his coordination. So when he reached out to pat her hand in apology, his hand brushed against a wine glass on the table and spilled it onto the bride’s dress. His face blanched at the burgundy color spreading through the folds of her dress.  “Umm…I’m…,” words refused to form as Oikawa grasped blindly for something better than an apology. Realizing that he couldn’t really do anything at that point and that his presence was probably only going to incite more disasters at this point, he fled from the stares of the wedding guests.</p><hr/><p>Iwaizumi had thought that he was bad at weddings, but watching Oikawa bowl over the bride mid-dance and also ruin her pristine gown had been beyond his imagination. Feeling a little sorry for the man, he walked out to the river bank, where Oikawa was sitting on the ground, a glass and a bottle of clear liquor in hand. The evening had slipped into night, and only soft moonlight illuminated the planes of Oikawa’s face. Oikawa hiccupped when he saw Iwaizumi but said nothing, lips still pulled down in a pout. He poured himself another drink, taking a sip and wincing as he swallowed.</p><p>Oikawa turned to look at Iwaizumi, his eyes glassy and round. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking me to Dublin?” he said, speech a little slurred.</p><p>Iwaizumi hoped Oikawa couldn’t see his smile in the dark. “Well, just tell me when. As ever, your servant awaits.” He gave a small mock bow.</p><p>Squinting up at Iwaizumi, Oikawa rose unsteadily to his feet. “You know what, Iwa-chan? Do you know what you are?” He lurched forward, almost colliding with Iwaizumi before righting himself, his chest only centimeters away from Iwaizumi’s.</p><p>Iwaizumi’s heart sped up and his palms became sweaty at Oikawa’s words. Oikawa had already opened up a part of his history that he liked to keep closed and hidden in the back when the man had assumed Iwaizumi had never been engaged. That little piece of information was something he had wanted to tuck away and forget about, but now holding on to the pain of the past kept him grounded. It reminded him of what he had gone through, and it pushed him to keep going. Letting that one shard of hurt bury its way into his heart had protected Iwaizumi, even if it sometimes became unbearable on the inside. But by keeping his walls up, he would never have to experience that kind of hurt and betrayal again.</p><p>So now, with moonlight reflected in Oikawa’s eyes and their breaths mingling in the brisk night air, Iwaizumi was afraid like he had never been before; afraid that Oikawa would see into him and recognize that pain; even more afraid that Oikawa would erase that ever-present ache, the same way that he had already broken through so many of Iwaizumi’s walls.</p><p>Oikawa continued on, poking Iwaizumi in the chest. “You’re a beast.” He laid his palm on Iwaizumi’s chest, above his heart. Iwaizumi shivered, hoping Oikawa couldn’t feel the rapid stutter of his heartbeat beneath his shirt. “You’re a real beast,” he repeated in a murmur, “and I cannot stand you.”</p><p>“Really?” Iwaizumi’s lips quirked into a smile, trying to hide how much he wanted Oikawa to stay this close to him.</p><p>“Mmhm,” Oikawa hummed, his fingers tracing random patterns across Iwaizumi’s shirt. “But you know what? I’m on to you.” He nodded solemnly to himself as if announcing a big discovery. “All of your…beast…ishness,” the words poured out like molasses from his lips. “it’s an act. It’s a great big massive cover up. You growl and you bite, but you…,” his voice grew quiet as he lifted his gaze to meet Iwaizumi’s, “You’re in pain. And you’ve got a…a big thorn in your beasty paw. Like a lion.” Oikawa placed his other hand on the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck, sending shivers down Iwaizumi’s spine. He leaned in and whispered, “A lovely, lovely lion,” his breath ghosting over Iwaizumi’s lips.</p><p>Iwaizumi’s heart was pounding in his chest. He felt intoxicated in Oikawa’s presence, despite having only had a little champagne at the reception. His senses were flooded with Oikawa: Oikawa’s words whispered against his skin, Oikawa’s touch lighting up every single nerve cell, Oikawa’s smell of liquor and lime. Oikawa’s name rested on his lips, threatening to escape. It seemed as if time had stilled to allow Iwaizumi to etch every detail of this moment into his memory.</p><p>Oikawa’s mouth was hovering above Iwaizumi’s, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, when he doubled over and retched on Iwaizumi’s shoes. He plopped on to the ground, whimpering and leaning his head against Iwaizumi’s legs.</p><p>“Great,” Iwaizumi breathed out. “That’s romantic,” he quipped.</p><p>Oikawa only moaned pitifully in response. “Alright, up you come,” Iwaizumi said gently, lifting Oikawa from under his arms. Oikawa leaned with deadweight against Iwaizumi, unwilling to expend any energy to move from his position. Iwaizumi hooked a hand under Oikawa’s legs, curling his other hand around his back, and carried him away from the river. “God, you’re a lump,” he said, smiling to himself.</p><p>Oikawa’s only answer was to snuggle his head in the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck. He sleepily murmured, “My suitcase.” </p><p>Iwaizumi couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped, “Don’t worry about Louis, I got him.”</p><p>"I got you too," he added quietly, but Oikawa had already slipped into sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ok I'm so sorry about ending the chapter like that lol drunk Oikawa is just too funny. </p><p>New updates coming soon!</p><p>As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and kudos are appreciated &lt;3 Thanks for reading!</p><p>Come talk to me about Haikyuu!! and these dorks on tumblr @swankyandmoomoo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They finally make it to Dublin, but things don't really go as planned.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay this turned into a bit of a character study, so there's lots of internal monologues. prepare yourselves. anyways, there's only one chapter left (as i've planned it so far), so thank you to everyone who has come along for the ride so far. i appreciate each and every one of you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oikawa blearily opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sun that seemed way too piercing for his sensitive, slightly hungover eyes. He lifted his head, feeling stiff all over. Taking stock of his surroundings, Oikawa realized that he had spent the night on a park bench, his head cradled in Iwaizumi’s lap. Iwaizumi’s jacket was draped across his body, keeping out the brisk morning breeze. It was warm and smelled like Iwaizumi. Oikawa pulled the fabric tighter and tucked it under his chin, turning to observe the sleeping man above him. In sleep, Iwaizumi’s face looked younger. His brow had smoothed out, no longer sporting that perpetual frown, and his lips were slightly parted, breath escaping in little puffs. Oikawa traced the line of Iwaizumi’s jaw with his eyes, wanting to reach out and rub his fingertips across the stubble that had grown over the past few days.</p><p>After a beat of quietly observing Iwaizumi, Oikawa realized how badly he needed to clear the remnants of his hangover. He sat up slowly, trying not to jostle Iwaizumi too much. He patted his head, failing to tame whatever atrocious shape his hair had taken on after a night of neglect. Laying Iwaizumi’s jacket on to his sleeping form, Oikawa rose from the bench and spotted a nearby coffee shop. A scalding cup of coffee would cure his headache and he could get coffee for Iwaizumi as thanks for looking after him last night. Pulling his suitcase behind him, Oikawa left Iwaizumi to rest on the bench.</p><hr/><p>The low rumble of a bus driving away startled Iwaizumi awake. He had been exhausted last night from carrying Oikawa from the river bank to ask the priest to drive them to the bus station. Once they had arrived at the bus station, Iwaizumi could only settle down on a park bench in the town center before he too was dozing off. But his sleep had been fitful, waking up periodically to check that Oikawa was still there, drooling into his jacket. He hadn’t let himself think too much about what had transpired between them (or what had <em>almost</em> transpired between them) by the river last night, too preoccupied with making sure that Oikawa drank water on the drive over and that he was settled on his side. Iwaizumi hadn’t even thought twice about the state of his shoes.</p><p>Slowly opening his eyes, Iwaizumi expected to see Oikawa with his fluffy hair still fanned out in Iwaizumi’s lap, lips formed into a cute pout as he slept. But Iwaizumi was only met with his black jacket, laid across his thighs. He was instantly alert, sweeping the vicinity to look for Oikawa and his ridiculous suitcase, but surrounding him was just the normal bustle of a small-town Monday morning. The thrum of an engine made Iwaizumi turn around, gaze landing on the shrinking silhouette of the local bus. Iwaizumi’s heart dropped. That was the bus bound for Dublin.</p><p>Why had Oikawa left without a goodbye? Did he not have the money to pay Iwaizumi? No, that couldn’t be it. Was his presence just too unbearable for Oikawa to continue the journey with? Even worse, could it be that Oikawa had realized just how attached to him Iwaizumi had become and had been uncomfortable with the thought of spending any more time with a practical stranger who was in love with him when he was getting engaged to his perfect cardiologist boyfriend that day? Iwaizumi’s mind churned with possibilities that did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.</p><p>He swallowed thickly, watching the bus wind its way through the streets, feeling like a child who was trapped in a nightmare, both miserable and hopeful that none of this was real. Iwaizumi sighed, imagining Oikawa nestled in a comfortable bus seat and complaining about how stiff he was after a night on the park bench. He closed his eyes, wrapped up in the feeling of desperately wanting to be on that bus with Oikawa, wanting to have a few extra moments with him before he inevitably disappeared from Iwaizumi’s life forever.  </p><hr/><p>Oikawa walked out of the coffee shop and saw Iwaizumi facing away from Oikawa. Watching Iwaizumi with his hands in his pockets and the Irish countryside laid out in front of him, Oikawa felt a sudden rush of affection for the man who had helped him all this way. He had been surprised by the kind and reliable man he had found beyond the surly attitude and sarcastic remarks. Even more surprising was how much Oikawa gravitated toward the man now, eager to bask in the immovable, unchanging loyalty and safety that Iwaizumi seemed to offer. He trusted Iwaizumi in a way that he had never been able to let himself do before. Having grown up in a household where finances were often unstable and where he always had to be the responsible one, taking care of his mother when his father was off in his own world, Oikawa was comforted by the ways in which Iwaizumi allowed Oikawa to rely on him and hadn’t ever let Oikawa down, despite so many opportunities to do so. Even in his relationship with Kageyama, Oikawa was the one doing the planning, making sure that the two of them found time to have an optimal number of date nights every week: two weeknights at home where they cooked for themselves and one night out on the weekend for a fancy dinner. But with Iwaizumi, Oikawa was able to let go of all that planning (at least for a little bit) and embrace the freedom of releasing responsibility; of kicking thieves to claim back his luggage; of dancing even when he didn’t know all the moves; of tasting wine and possibility on the lips of a stranger. He wanted to memorize this quiet moment: just he and Iwaizumi before they made it to Dublin.</p><p>Oikawa walked up to Iwaizumi and handed him a cup of coffee. At Iwaizumi’s wide eyes and stunned expression, Oikawa scoffed. “Don’t look so surprised, Iwa-chan. You can deduct the coffee from my bill,” he said generously.</p><p>Iwaizumi smirked, “Deduct away. And don’t forget to add on for a new pair of shoes, Pukeykawa.”</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Oikawa deepened his voice in an exaggerated imitation of Iwaizumi, “Just throw them in the wash, they’ll be good as new.”</p><p>Iwaizumi chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. He looked back out towards the town’s main street, where he had been gazing before Oikawa had arrived. “You missed your bus,” he said, eyes flitting back to Oikawa’s face.</p><p>Oikawa gave him a bright smile and brandished two tickets. “There’s another one in twenty minutes.”</p><p>“Oh god, am I still coming with you?” Iwaizumi groaned, but his lips quirked into smile.</p><p>Oikawa’s smile reflected Iwaizumi’s. “I’m paying you to take me to Dublin, so you’re taking me to Dublin,” he said decisively.</p><hr/><p>On the bus ride to Dublin, Oikawa had dozed off again, his hands clutched loosely around Iwaizumi’s arm, his head resting on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. It had made Iwaizumi smile as the green pastures and woody hills became a blur outside the window. He savored this quiet moment: just he and Oikawa before they made it to Dublin.</p><p>Once they arrived, Oikawa called Kageyama’s hotel but was told that he would be out until the afternoon. With a few hours to kill before Oikawa would reunite with Kageyama, Iwaizumi looked at the other man expectantly.</p><p>“So, Dublin,” Oikawa exhaled, taking in his surroundings.</p><p>“Right on time,” Iwaizumi quipped.</p><p>“I’ll pay you once we get to the hotel,” Oikawa said, fidgeting with the handle of his suitcase. “There’ll be an ATM there.”</p><p>“So, I’ll be guiding again, will I?” Iwaizumi said playfully.</p><p>“Well…” Oikawa looked at the ground, observing his shoes, “not if you don’t want to,” he said, looking at Iwaizumi with a soft, almost shy expression. Sunlight made his brown eyes light up with golden specks.</p><p>Iwaizumi’s heart leaped at the look on Oikawa’s face. His pulse raced with the hope that Oikawa, too, wanted to prolong their journey together for as long as possible. “I didn’t say that,” Iwaizumi said, watching Oikawa’s face light up with a smile.</p><p>“We can get a cab,” Oikawa offered.</p><p>“You’ve got legs, haven’t you, Crappykawa?” Iwaizumi fell back into their usual bantering.</p><p>“They’re my best features, so I’m told,” Oikawa said regally, flipping a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Who told you that?” Iwaizumi shot back with a grin, pretending to be unimpressed.</p><p>He actually did disagree. Sure, Oikawa had nice long legs that accentuated his elegance, but Iwaizumi personally thought that Oikawa’s best feature were his eyes. His eyes were beautiful and expressive. Iwaizumi had memorized every version of Oikawa’s gaze: the glint in Oikawa’s eyes when he had that intense stare of determination, the wide-eyed, watery look when he was feeling panicked and helpless that made Iwaizumi’s hands itch to wipe that expression away, the glassy and unfocused expression when Oikawa had stared at Iwaizumi’s mouth for an extra beat after their lips had parted, the crinkled squint of Oikawa when he was genuinely happy. Iwaizumi felt as if he could wax poetic about Oikawa’s eyes forever. The thought scared him.</p><p>They walked around Dublin, slowly weaving their way through cobblestone streets and tall buildings. Eventually, they made their way to a quiet little park. Leaning against a bridge that overlooked a burbling creek, Oikawa spoke up. “It’s a beautiful city, and I haven’t seen one backstabbing snake,” he said, bringing up Iwaizumi’s words from that first day in the pub.</p><p>Iwaizumi laughed lightly, “Well it’s the chancers and the cheaters you have to watch out for.”</p><p>He turned back to the water, his eyes following a branch that tumbled with the current. He could feel Oikawa’s gaze from the side, scrutinizing his expression. He kept his eyes trained on the water until Oikawa’s voice broke through his concentration. “They’re here, aren’t they? In Dublin,” Oikawa said hesitantly. “The chancers and cheats? Those people in the photo. Who are they?”</p><p>Iwaizumi’s stomach clenched nervously, but he knew Oikawa wouldn’t give up so easily this time. And there was some small part of him that wanted Oikawa to know, that wanted to share every part of himself with Oikawa. He took a deep breath. “We grew up together, actually, in Japan. Me, Hana, Yuuji.” He looked over at Oikawa who didn’t say anything, listening intently to Iwaizumi’s words. “We all lived on the same street, went to school together, had the same dream of starting a restaurant together. So when we finished college, we took a chance and moved here, to Ireland. We bought the pub and built it up from nothing. I would do the cooking, Yuuji was in charge of drinks, and Hana handled all the management stuff. We really got it going. I mean, we were flying.” Nostalgia laced Iwaizumi’s words. He couldn’t help but remember those days as truly golden. They had been young and optimistic. Everything had been working out. Until…he steeled himself for the words that came out of his mouth next. “I thought that Hana and I were in love. We got engaged once the business became steady, and we were so happy. But,” his voice became raw, the emotions from that time flooding back into his mind, “apparently not. Hana had been in love with Yuuji since we were little, and Yuuji finally noticed.” Oikawa looked at him kindly with understanding in his eyes. Iwaizumi swallowed thickly, trying to wrestle his emotions under control. “That thing I’d grab if I had sixty seconds,” Iwaizumi continued slowly, “it’s my mother’s wedding ring. But, well, she’s got it.”</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes lit up and he began to wave his hands excitedly. “But you’re here <em>now</em>. You should find her and get it back.”</p><p>Iwaizumi frowned, unsure. He still felt a little unsteady from laying bare his history in front of Oikawa. “I don’t know…”</p><p>“It’s your mother’s ring,” Oikawa insisted.</p><p>Iwaizumi shoved his hands into his pockets, mulling the thought over. Maybe…</p><p>He turned to give Oikawa a look of his own, raising his eyebrows. “Anyway, I thought it was your ring we were meant to be worrying about.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, right,” Oikawa stuttered, seeming to have forgotten his reason for being in Dublin. His expression turned satisfied. “I’m glad to see someone’s finally on board.”</p><p>“It has nothing to do with me,” Iwaizumi defended, jokingly. “I’m just the bag carrier around here. Why should I care?”</p><p>“So you don’t?” Oikawa asked, his voice quiet, question edging into a challenge.</p><p>Iwaizumi’s fists tightened in his pocket, trying to form an answer. He felt so hopelessly torn when it came to Oikawa. There was a part of him that wanted to confess to Oikawa right then and there; to say that of course he cared, he had cared since Oikawa had told him about his ridiculous proposal plan, how could he not care; to hope that Oikawa wouldn’t return to Tokyo and Kageyama and their perfect life together. That was the selfish part of him, the part that didn’t care about consequences if he could just stay by Oikawa’s side, if he could wake up every morning to see that fluffy hair, that genuine smile, those gorgeous brown eyes. But there was another, much stronger part of him that couldn’t bear to see Oikawa’s gaze turn cold and apologetic as he was inevitably rejected. This was the part of Iwaizumi that kept him from getting hurt. He couldn’t be the one to break the balance between him and Oikawa.</p><p>Softly, he asked back, “Would it make a difference?”</p><p>Iwaizumi had placed the decision in Oikawa’s hands, hoping beyond hope that he would answer in the way Iwaizumi desperately wanted. But Oikawa said nothing, his gaze locked with Iwaizumi’s in an unreadable expression.</p><p>Oikawa turned away first, eyes flitting over the trees and the grass, never settling on one thing and never returning to Iwaizumi’s. Iwaizumi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, heart sinking with acceptance. That had been answer enough.</p><p>“Come on,” he said, walking away. It was time to go to the hotel.</p><p>Standing on the polished marble floor of the hotel lobby, Iwaizumi could taste the goodbye resting on his tongue. Here would conclude the wild journey of accompanying Oikawa to Dublin. The finality of the moment made Iwaizumi’s chest tighten painfully. Why couldn’t he bear to let go?</p><p>Oikawa walked up to him, envelope of cash in hand. “Here you go.”</p><p>“Nah,” Iwaizumi shook his head, “it’s okay.” How could he take money from Oikawa at this point? It just didn’t feel right.</p><p>“Iwa-chan, take it please,” Oikawa looked at him, imperious tone creeping back in. “We had a deal.”</p><p>Iwaizumi sighed. “Why don’t you just give me the one coin and we’ll call it day?”</p><p>“Which coin?” Oikawa cocked his head adorably.</p><p>“The one we flipped for the bed,” Iwaizumi said roughly, hoping he wasn’t blushing too furiously.</p><p>Oikawa dug around in his bag and held it up, placing the small coin in Iwaizumi’s hand. “Yeah, liar Iwa-chan,” Oikawa chuckled.</p><p>Iwaizumi tossed the coin up gently and caught it again, moving his thumb across the image imprinted on the coin. “Well, best of luck,” he finally managed to say. “So long, Louis.” He gave Oikawa’s suitcase a little pat.</p><p>“Yeah,” Oikawa breathed, eyes never leaving Iwaizumi’s face. Time slowed, neither man moving to step away. Iwaizumi drank in the moment, holding onto any and every detail. He bit his lip, holding back all the words he wanted to say. Turning on his heel, he broke away from Oikawa’s magnetic pull, as if shaking himself out of a trance.</p><p>Halfway to the door, Iwaizumi stilled, squeezing his eyes shut. That selfish part of him had grown stronger, pushing aside all thoughts of self-preservation and protection. He turned back around, inhaled deeply, and called out, “Oikawa.”</p><p>Oikawa turned toward the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice. “Yes?” Oikawa said, lips drawn into a hopeful smile. Iwaizumi’s heartbeat roared in his ears. He walked back toward Oikawa, unable to look away from the man who had absolutely changed his life in a mere two days. As he opened his mouth to speak, another voice cut through the din of the lobby. “Oikawa, Oikawa!”</p><p>Iwaizumi turned to see a tall man with black hair and a small relieved smile on his face walking towards them. The man continued to speak, as he joined them, placing an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders. “Thank goodness you’re here. Where have you been?” Concern was written across his face.</p><p>Iwaizumi’s lips thinned into a straight line, boring holes into the fingers that were rubbing circles into Oikawa’s arms.</p><p>“Hi,” Oikawa said, a little breathless. “It’s a long story.” His eyes flitted to Iwaizumi before returning to the man, whom Iwaizumi assumed was Kageyama. “Good to see you!” Oikawa said, leaning into an embrace and a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>Iwaizumi stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, Kageyama turned to Iwaizumi and said seriously, slight wrinkle in his brow, “Sorry, do I know you?”</p><p>“Oh, Kageyama, this is Iwaizumi,” Oikawa supplied. Iwaizumi noted how formal his name sounded coming from Oikawa without his nickname. “He helped me get from Dingle to Dublin.”</p><p>Kageyama smirked, “Well, I don’t envy that job. He’s not really big on adventure.” He jerked a thumb at a blushing Oikawa.</p><p>“No,” Iwaizumi confirmed with a nod and a polite smile. What was he still doing here? Iwaizumi had safely delivered Oikawa to Dublin and to a reunion with his soon-to-be fiancée; he didn’t belong here.</p><p>“Nice to meet you,” Kageyama said, extending a hand to shake with Iwaizumi. “So, did he take care of you?” he asked, gesturing between Oikawa and Iwaizumi.</p><p>Iwaizumi felt his ears heat up in confusion. He looked at Oikawa who had gone strangely silent, eyes darting between the two men standing before him.</p><p>“Did you tip him?” Kageyama clarified, peering at Oikawa’s distraught expression.</p><p>Iwaizumi spoke up. “He paid me.”</p><p>“Great, thanks for getting him here safely. I really appreciate it,” Kageyama dipped his head, giving a small bow. He turned back to Oikawa, as if preoccupied with other thoughts. “I really missed you,” he told Oikawa, pulling him into another tight hug.</p><p>Iwaizumi felt uncomfortable and out of place, seeing Oikawa giggling in Kageyama’s arms and saying “I missed you too, Tobio-chan!”</p><p>He turned away, preparing himself for the long journey home, alone, when he heard Kageyama say, “No, I really missed you, and it got me thinking. Why aren’t we married?”</p><p>Iwaizumi stilled, not daring to believe his ears. When he turned back toward the couple, he saw that Kageyama was already on his knees, looking up at Oikawa hopefully. Oikawa’s expression was a mix of surprise and disbelief, his lips parted in an O, eyes glued to Kageyama. “So,” Kageyama continued, “will you marry me?” He pulled out a small box from his jacket pocket and opened it to reveal a sparkling silver ring.</p><p>Oikawa blinked rapidly, placing his hand over his heart. “Are you serious?”</p><p>Kageyama stammered. “Well I’m—yes, I’m serious,” he said earnestly.</p><p>Iwaizumi felt like he was suffocating. There was suddenly not enough air in the spacious lobby, and his breaths escaped in sharp, short bursts. His vision was turning blurry, but he couldn’t rip his gaze from Oikawa. Watching Oikawa receive the proposal he had so desperately wanted, Iwaizumi could feel the shard in his heart grow bigger and sharper, wedging itself deeper. Before he could do something he would regret, Iwaizumi pushed open the door, embracing the biting cold of the city.</p><hr/><p>“Oikawa?”</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes lingered on the door swinging shut. His throat felt dry and his chest had tightened with a disappointment that didn’t seem to match Kageyama’s hopeful eyes looking up at him. When Kageyama had dropped down on one knee to propose, Oikawa’s heart had fluttered with surprise. But the first thing on his mind hadn’t been to say yes; his first thought had been to turn back to Iwaizumi and hear the words that he had come back to say. But now, as he looked at the entranceway so absent of Iwaizumi’s presence, Oikawa felt hope claw its way out of his chest, leaving him just as empty as the place where Iwaizumi had stood earlier. He closed his eyes, trying to distract himself from the turmoil he felt within.</p><p>“You still haven’t given me an answer,” Kageyama said, still down on one knee and looking a little unsure. A blush rested on his high cheekbones and his gaze flickered between Oikawa’s face and the expectant looks of the crowd of onlookers that had gathered in the lobby.  </p><p>Oikawa looked at Kageyama, putting on a small smile. “Yes, of course.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Kageyama repeated, lifting the corners of his mouth, deep blue eyes bright with happiness.</p><p>“Yes,” Oikawa breathed out. He felt drained, as if all the oxygen in the world wasn’t enough to sustain his lungs. It hadn’t mattered whether Iwaizumi cared or not. They were gone from each other’s lives.</p><p>The other guests in the hotel lobby cheered and clapped, looking fondly at the newly engaged couple. Kageyama eagerly slipped the ring onto Oikawa’s finger, a satisfied grin on his face when it fit perfectly.</p><p>As Kageyama led Oikawa toward the elevators to celebrate in their room, Oikawa couldn’t help but look back at the entranceway, longing for the familiar figure of a certain spiky-haired bartender-taxi driver-pub owner-resident grump who had claimed Oikawa’s heart.</p><hr/><p>After wandering around Dublin for a while to clear his thoughts, Iwaizumi had managed to loosen some of the tight sadness in his chest. But his mind still rang with Oikawa’s suggestion of getting his mother’s ring back. Those words had injected courage into Iwaizumi’s veins, tempting him to confront his past.</p><p>He had called Hana up, explaining his visit. She had sounded happy to hear from him, and they had agreed to meet at a pub.</p><p>Sitting at the bar and waiting for Hana to show up, Iwaizumi watched the droplets of condensation roll down his beer glass. Each time the glistening drop fell to the wooden table, Iwaizumi was reminded of the hailstones that had pelted him and Oikawa just yesterday. His lips tugged up involuntarily at the memory, feeling a tender longing to be back in that church, crashing a beautiful wedding ceremony with an even more beautiful man.</p><p>“I never thought I’d see you in Dublin,” a familiar voice pulled Iwaizumi’s thoughts back to the present. He turned around to see Hana standing in the old orange coat she had stubbornly refused to retire since they were in high school. She looked just like in that photo Iwaizumi kept hidden away. Her hair was still cut short, curving around her chin, and that carefree grin sat naturally on her lips.</p><p>“Hana,” Iwaizumi greeted. “How have you been?”</p><p>“Oh, same old, same old. Being a mother is tough and all, but Yuuji is—” she seemed to catch herself, feeling self-conscious of the sensitive topic.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Iwaizumi reassured, surprising himself with how little he seemed to care about their past conflict now. “I’m actually here because,” he paused, mulling the words over in his mind, “I met someone.”</p><p>Hana’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful!”</p><p>“Well,” Iwaizumi’s brow furrowed, “he’s engaged.”</p><p>Trying to school her shocked expression Hana stuttered, “I—Well, that’s…I’m sorry.”</p><p>“No, that’s not…” Iwaizumi trailed off. “I told him about my mother’s wedding ring and how you still have it. I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it all these years, but he actually convinced me find you.” He looked into Hana’s warm brown eyes and she nodded understandingly, gently patting his hand.</p><p>Pulling the ring in question out of her purse, she said, “I’ve kept it safe for you this whole time. I’m glad you’ve found someone who truly deserves it.”</p><p>Iwaizumi nodded, accepting her unspoken apology. He rolled the ring between his fingers, thinking about the silver ring nestled in Kageyama’s outstretched hand. “I don’t think I’ll be giving this away anytime soon,” he said, feeling like his fingertips were burning from the contact with the ring. He slipped it into his pocket, hearing it clink against the coin from Oikawa.</p><p>“Oh Hajime,” Hana sighed, “you always were a cynic. Try to believe in love a little, would you? If you feel this strongly about Mr. Engaged, then don’t you think that maybe he feels the same way about you?”</p><p>Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at Hana’s suggestion, wanting to dismiss it as ridiculous. His thoughts snagged on the possibility of Oikawa returning his feelings, fulfilling all of his hopes. But that selfish part of him had retreated, deigning to briefly entertain his fantasies before they were carefully stored back into a dusty old wardrobe. He had resigned himself to the reality that Oikawa wouldn’t destroy his perfect life in Tokyo for Iwaizumi. This wasn’t like the movies.</p><p>He would have to be really lucky to give this ring to the cow herder-car destroyer-apartment stager who had stolen his way into Iwaizumi’s heart.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>pining iwa is so classic, but don't worry, the pain will be resolved next chapter!! </p><p>i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! and kudos are always appreciated &lt;3</p><p>come talk to me on tumblr @swankyandmoomoo :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things are resolved.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow, I can't believe it's the last chapter!?!? It has been an absolute blast writing this and I am so so grateful for all of you readers. Hope you enjoy the resolution and happy ending in this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oikawa straightened the lapels of his tailored suit, making sure every line was crisp. He flashed a smile at the guests trickling in. He could feel Kageyama’s steady presence beside him, reminding him of all the reasons they were celebrating tonight. He looked around at their newly decorated apartment, minimalistic and modern. Pinpricks of light glittered from outside the window, casting the eternal glow of the city into the room. Oikawa had spent hours agonizing over the exact layout of their apartment, painstakingly eliminating paint color options and hand-selecting the barstools that stood in the kitchen. He felt proud of the result, having brought his dreams to fruition. He could now say he was a resident of the Royal Minamizabu, a title he had only ever daydreamed about. It was everything that he had wanted.</p><p>But now, surrounded by his friends at an apartment warming-slash-engagement party and standing beside Kageyama as the couple that everyone else aspired to be, Oikawa felt that something was missing.</p><p>Seeing Hanamaki walking through the door, arms linked with his husband Matsukawa, Oikawa’s face lit up, happy to have a chance to catch up with his best friend. Hanamaki greeted him with a wide grin and a bone-crushing hug. “Congratulations!” Hanamaki said, voice getting excited. “Let me see it!”</p><p>Oikawa smugly held out his hand, showing off the expensive engagement ring that Kageyama had gotten him. A ribbon of stars was engraved on the outside, and their names were carved on the inside. Hanamaki took a close look and gave an approving nod. “You didn’t think Kageyama got the hint, huh?”</p><p>Oikawa slapped his arm. “Ugh, fine, Makki. You were right,” he said begrudgingly with a pout. “But you had my hopes up for no reason that day at the tailor.”</p><p>“Yeah, but he still proposed, didn’t he?” Hanamaki shot back, smirking.</p><p>“Anyways, what do you think of the place?” Oikawa asked, spreading his arms to show off his apartment. “Do you like it?”</p><p>Hanamaki narrowed his eyes. “Do I <em>like</em> it?” he said, breaking into a laugh. “I want to throw you out of this window and take it.”</p><p>Oikawa preened at the compliment. The two of them walked over to join Kageyama and Matsukawa, who were talking amiably.</p><p>“You know,” Matsukawa said, clapping a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder. “you really outdid yourself. You’re spoiling this guy,” he jerked a finger at an indignant Oikawa. “The apartment was enough; you didn’t need to propose too,” he joked.</p><p>Kageyama blinked at him, looking a little embarrassed. “Oh, well, it was kind of a package deal,” he admitted.</p><p>Joining in on the joke, Hanamaki looped an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “What, you buy an apartment and they throw in a ring?” he asked.</p><p>“It was the other way around,” Kageyama corrected.</p><p>Oikawa stilled, looking at Kageyama. He was waiting for Kageyama to laugh, to say that it was just a joke, part of the usual banter they had with Mattsun and Makki. But as he took in Kageyama’s unwavering sincerity, his pulse rocketed, anxiety and confusion taking over. Oikawa looked at Hanamaki for reassurance, but the other man only gave him a wide-eyed worried look.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Oikawa asked quietly, voice almost cracking.</p><p>Kageyama’s eyes flickered toward Oikawa. “It was that woman from the interview, I think. She called me in Dublin, probing about our marital status,” he explained. “It was a little uncomfortable,” he said honestly, a small wrinkle appearing in his brow, “but she didn’t ask anything specific, just kind of interested and saying that the residents are old-fashioned when it comes to issues like this. I figured she was trying to give me a hint: married, you’re in, unmarried, you’re not.” Oikawa’s stomach flipped anxiously as Kageyama continued. “So, I just said we were hours away from getting engaged,” he said, lacing his fingers with Oikawa’s. “After I put the phone down, I thought, why not? You know?”</p><p>“Really?” Oikawa breathed. He could feel his chest getting tighter, tears piling up behind his eyes. He blinked rapidly, pressing his lips together in a tight smile. Hanamaki gave him a sad, apologetic look, recognizing that Kageyama’s bluntness had gone a little too far this time.</p><p>“Yeah,” Kageyama’s blue eyes pierced Oikawa to the spot. “We’d have gotten around to it eventually, anyway, right?” he said, giving Oikawa’s hand a quick squeeze. Even though Kageyama was only two years younger than Oikawa, he still surprised Oikawa with how earnest he sometimes was. When they had first started dating, Oikawa had found Kageyama’s emotional bluntness endearing. He had been impressed by (and admittedly a little jealous of) the straightforward way Kageyama approached other people. He could take people at face value, treating them based on his initial impressions of them until proven otherwise.</p><p>In contrast, Oikawa was an overthinker when it came to other people. He was constantly worrying about what people thought of him. When he was younger, he worried that the neighborhood kids would pity him for never having enough money to buy souvenirs on school trips. Even now, he would fret over his professional reputation, always exuding outward confidence, but somehow convinced that he still wasn’t quite good enough. That was why he liked to understand people. It was why he felt reassured when he could identify the things that made someone happy and could surpass their expectations by producing something even better than they had imagined. He liked to be wanted, and even better, to be needed. It was as simple as that.</p><p>With Kageyama, it really was simple. They wanted the same things from life, and it was nice to share ambitions with someone. Admittedly, Kageyama could be emotionally distant sometimes, but not so much that a little whining and pouting from Oikawa couldn’t bring him closer. They had thrived on that dynamic for years: Oikawa liked Kageyama’s serious and steady dependability, and Kageyama enjoyed the sparkle that Oikawa brought into his life.</p><p>But something about the way Kageyama had explained the steps that led to his proposal made Oikawa falter. He hadn’t liked the way Kageyama had made things so simple. A gruff voice echoed in his mind, <em>the most important decision of his life</em>. Oikawa felt numb. The most important decision of his life had been whittled down to wanting a new apartment. Suddenly it felt terrible to be needed this way. Kageyama had needed him so that they could fulfill the goal they had made together. But really, Kageyama had <em>used</em> him. Had Kageyama ever really intended on proposing? Or had he been content to keep their relationship the same as it had been for the past four years, as something to check off as a success?</p><p>“Are you alright, Oikawa?” Kageyama asked, noticing Oikawa’s pale face.</p><p>Oikawa gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine,” he responded. “Why don’t you go show Makki and Mattsun the nice view?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, show us the view!” Makki said, pushing the other two men toward the window and giving Oikawa’s arm a comforting squeeze as they left.</p><p>Oikawa let out a deep breath. He poured himself a drink, leaning against the cool marble countertop. He toyed with the ring on his finger, watching as the light caught each notch in the metal. His thoughts flickered to the question Iwaizumi had posed as they had climbed toward the castle. Iwaizumi had known, with conviction, that the one thing he would save from a fire was his mother’s ring. And he hadn’t even been in possession of it at the time. Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, massaging his temples, trying to think of one item that he could never bear to part with—something he needed.</p><p>His mind danced around the different possibilities. His eyes scanned the room, gliding past sleek furniture and tasteful décor. But just like that time on the hill, nothing stuck. His thoughts tangled in knots, trying to prove to an invisible Iwaizumi that he, Oikawa Tooru, was not so shallow a person as Iwaizumi thought. Yet the more he wracked his brain for some small piece of his life in Tokyo that meant more to him than a status that he thought would make him happy, the emptier Oikawa felt. He could list countless friends and connections and colleagues, many of whom were present at the party, but most of the people in this room didn’t know Oikawa. Not really. Besides Hanamaki, who Oikawa had known since college, and Kageyama, who probably knew every single one of Oikawa’s faults at this point, Oikawa had never let any of these people see the real him. He had never relinquished the fragile control he held over how others perceived him. At least not until he had gone to Ireland and had unwillingly, but eventually willingly, relinquished it because of Iwaizumi.</p><p>An overwhelming sense of loneliness washed over Oikawa. The chatter of the party guests faded out. The sharp edges of the countertop blurred away. The only thing that was left was Oikawa looking down at the ring on his finger and Iwaizumi’s words. <em>Would it make a difference?</em> <em>Stop trying to control everything in the known universe</em>. <em>If your house was on fire and you had 60 seconds, what would you take?</em></p><p>With Iwaizumi’s deep voice threading through his thoughts, Oikawa walked over to the side wall, pulled the manual fire alarm, and watched.</p><p>Immediately, a blaring siren pierced the room, startling all the guests. People murmured, wondering what was going on and where the fire was. Kageyama rushed to the center of the room, announcing apologetically that everyone should head down to the lobby where it would be safer. As the guests quickly filed out the door, Oikawa stood in the now empty apartment, unmoving. Even as the alarm pulsed in time with his heartbeat, Oikawa felt no urgency to leave.</p><p>Kageyama called out to him from where he was collecting an armful of items. “Oikawa, do you have everything you need?” Kageyama shuffled his phone, laptop, and a few picture frames around in his arms. “Can you grab all the valuables?”</p><p>Kageyama’s voice bled into the siren, fading into the background. Oikawa skimmed his fingers across the counter, taking in the apartment as he had always imagined it. But looking at it now, it no longer resembled the future he had in mind. Oikawa drifted through the apartment and out the door, feeling like he was nowhere and everywhere at once. When he reached the lobby, he looked down at his hands, empty except for the star-studded ring that rested in his palm.</p><p>After the guests had left their apartment building, Oikawa sat Kageyama down in the kitchen and slid the silver ring across the counter. “I’m sorry, Tobio-chan,” he said, voice quiet. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”</p><p>Kageyama’s brow furrowed, his eyes clouding in confusion. “What do you mean?” He glanced down at the ring, sitting forlorn against the marble.</p><p>“This,” Oikawa gestured at the apartment, at the two of them sitting across from each other, and at the ring. “It’s not working.” His throat felt raw. He was giving voice to his greatest fear, but also his greatest desire. “I can’t be with you anymore.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Kageyama said, confusion and hurt laced through his words. “I thought this was what you wanted, what <em>we</em> wanted,”</p><p>Oikawa let out a humorless laugh. “That’s what I thought too. Or at least that’s what I wanted to think. But admit it, Tobio, we’re not as perfect as we let everyone else think we are. We barely have time for each other, our schedules never match up, and our weekly dates are just cardboard cutouts of all of our other dates.” His tone turned earnest and pleading. “I know you felt like you had to propose so that we could have this, but you didn’t really want to, did you?”</p><p>Kageyama’s gaze dropped to his hands. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “I’m sorry, Oikawa,” he said softly. “I thought it would make you happy—to have the apartment and the life you’ve been dreaming of since before we were even together. But I’m afraid.” His voice trembled. “I’m afraid of asking too much of you and eventually letting you down.”</p><p>Oikawa was touched by Kageyama’s honesty. He had come such a long way since they had first met. Instead of expecting others to accommodate him, Kageyama now willingly sacrificed his own comfort so that he could thrive with the people he cared about. And it broke Oikawa’s heart to leave the history they had created. But he knew that this would be the best for the both of them.</p><p>“Tobio,” Oikawa said gently, placing his hand over Kageyama’s, “it’s okay to not want this.” Even as he saw the relief flood through Kageyama’s eyes, Oikawa knew that there was a part of him that needed to hear those words too.</p><hr/><p>In the heat of the kitchen, Iwaizumi wiped his brow and looked down at the list of orders, mentally calculating how much time each dish would take. Now that business at the Caragh was booming, there was never a shortage of hungry customers.</p><p>After he had arrived back in Dingle, Iwaizumi had organized a community gathering at the Caragh Pub, relying on donations and tips from customers who were primarily the residents of Dingle to collect the 1000 Euro he owed to Ushijima. The community members had really supported him, spreading the word about his delicious cooking and good beer. By the end of the day, the Caragh had been injected with new life and energy. With some of the extra funds, Iwaizumi had repainted the exterior of the pub and fixed the decaying sign so that tourists would no longer write the Caragh off as a dingy pub. Iwaizumi had even needed to hire more staff to help him during the busy season.</p><p>Iwaizumi turned to the dough in front of him, preparing to bake another quiche. One of the new waiters, Kunimi, walked into the kitchen holding a chicken pot pie and looking bored. “Iwaizumi, the customer says the chicken’s dry,” Kunimi said tepidly, wrinkling his nose at the dish in his hands.</p><p>“The what’s what?” Iwaizumi said, still focused on crimping the edges of the quiche in front of him.</p><p>“The chicken,” Kunimi sighed. “It’s dry.”</p><p>Iwaizumi grumbled, pulling out a fork from the drawer. “It’s a pie. How could it be dry?” he asked incredulously. Scooping out a large bite of the filling, Iwaizumi tasted it and frowned. “It’s delicious!” he exclaimed, already pulling off his apron and storming into the main dining area.</p><p>He walked up to a table of tourists and pointed an accusing finger at them. “Alright, which one of you idiots thinks my chicken is dry? You?” He stared accusingly at a balding middle-aged man. “You?” Iwaizumi turned to a teenager whose face was riddled with acne.</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>Iwaizumi’s heart stuttered at the voice he heard behind him. He spun around and locked eyes with a man he thought he’d never see again.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, eyes widened in disbelief.</p><hr/><p>The restaurant had changed completely since Oikawa had last seen it. Instead of paint peeling off the walls and beer stained wooden floors, there was a gleaming new sign and seats filled with happy customers. His heart swelled with pride at what Iwaizumi had done to reinvent the restaurant. He had clearly grown out of the past that had clung to the previous version of the Caragh. Even more evident was how happy and successful Iwaizumi’s life now was. No longer struggling to pay back debts or desperate for business, Iwaizumi seemed better off now. And yet here Oikawa was, inserting himself into Iwaizumi’s life again. Or at least hoping to do so.</p><p>When Iwaizumi turned to face him, Oikawa’s breath caught in his throat and he felt a dizzying rush of desire to run towards Iwaizumi with arms outstretched. But instead, he approached Iwaizumi steadily, measuring each breath with a corresponding step. He couldn’t help the fond smile that took over his face. “Could you maybe be nice for just two seconds? I did fly nine thousand miles to get here,” Oikawa lilted.</p><p>Iwaizumi cleared his throat and looked off to the side. “Is Kageyama with you?”</p><p>“What?” Oikawa had been preparing to launch into the grand speech he had come up with on the plane ride over. “No, no,” Oikawa said definitively. “It didn’t work out.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Iwaizumi said, but he somehow didn’t look sorry at all.</p><p>It seemed like Oikawa had forgotten the existence of everyone else besides Iwaizumi. The whole restaurant, no, the entire world in fact, had shrunk down to just Oikawa standing across from Iwaizumi.</p><p>“When my sixty seconds came around, I realized that I had everything I ever wanted, but nothing I really needed.” Oikawa took a deep breath before diving past the point of no return. “And I think,” he took a tentative step closer to Iwaizumi, “that what I need is here. And I came all this way to see if maybe you might think so too. And if you do, well I don’t really have any plans past that, which is kind of new for me.” The words rushed out of Oikawa’s lips shakily, eager to be heard and desperate to be answered. “So, Iwaizumi Hajime, here is my proposal. I propose we <em>not</em> make plans. I propose we give this thing a chance and let it work out however it works out. What do you say? Do you want to not make plans with me?” Oikawa’s voice felt hoarse and he was on the verge of tears, as if he had just laid his entire soul bare. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so vulnerable. He thought he could get used to the feeling.</p><p>Iwaizumi lips parted, as if to respond. Oikawa hung on to every movement with bated breath. But instead of giving an answer, Iwaizumi just bit his lip with an unreadable expression, softly shook his head, and walked back into the kitchen.</p><p>Oikawa’s heart dropped to the floor. He couldn’t form the words to call after Iwaizumi. He blinked quickly, trying to maintain his composure and force the embarrassed flush from his cheeks. His speech hadn’t been enough. His coming here hadn’t been enough. <em>He himself</em> hadn’t been enough. Looking around at the pitying gazes of the other people in the restaurant, Oikawa gave an awkward laugh and mumbled, “I guess that’s a no.”</p><p>Oikawa was suffocating under the tension in the restaurant. No matter how many breaths he took, he couldn’t seem to ease the ache in his chest. Even after walking to a grassy cliff overlooking the turbulent ocean, Oikawa’s heart continued to beat with disappointment, his mind flooded with pain and regret. Filling his lungs with the sharp sea salt air, Oikawa tried to formulate a plan from the broken pieces of his intentions, but his thoughts were interrupted by someone approaching him from behind.</p><p>“Mr. Oikawaizumi,” said an all too familiar voice. Oikawa spun around and locked eyes with a man he thought he’d never see again. “Where the hell are you going?” Iwaizumi asked, an exasperated and amused smile gracing his lips.</p><p>Oikawa looked away, studying the tufts of dead grass on the ground. His voice emerged small and sullen, “You said no.”</p><p>“I didn’t say no,” Iwaizumi countered. He held up a hand at Oikawa’s accusing look. “I didn’t say anything,” he clarified.</p><p>“You walked away,” Oikawa said. That had been answer enough.</p><p>Iwaizumi scoffed. Oikawa thought Iwaizumi’s amusement was a little unnecessary. He had already been rejected; Iwaizumi didn’t need to rub it in.</p><p>“I was getting something,” Iwaizumi explained.</p><p>“Really?” Oikawa looked at him in disbelief. “That was a good time to go get something?”</p><hr/><p>“Yeah, it was actually,” Iwaizumi’s lips quirked into a smile. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocky shore drowned out the deafening rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers fumbled against the metal band in his pocket. When was the last time he had been this nervous? “I was getting this.” Iwaizumi pulled out the golden ring that he had stored securely in his bedroom after coming back from Dublin. He hadn’t thought that he would get the chance to give it away so soon. His heart swelled with happiness. “Idiotkawa,” he said fondly, “I wouldn’t be holding this ring if it weren’t for you.” The sun sat low on the horizon, glinting off the smooth surface of the ring. Iwaizumi looked into Oikawa’s eyes, seeing all of his hopes and desires reflected in the way they shined. “I reject your proposal. I don’t want to not make plans with you,” Oikawa’s hopeful expression faltered, but Iwaizumi continued on, “I want to <em>make</em> plans with you.”</p><p>“You do?” Oikawa asked so earnestly that it made Iwaizumi weak.</p><p>“Yeah,” Iwaizumi knelt down, one knee pressing into the soft earth, “I do.” He held up the ring to Oikawa, drinking in his every movement. “Will you marry me?”</p><p>Oikawa laughed giddily and said with mock superiority, “I never thought I’d see you down on one knee.”</p><p>Iwaizumi was unimpressed. “Yeah, well it’s getting a bit damp down here, so what’ll it be, Oikawa from Tokyo?”</p><p>“Yes,” Oikawa breathed out; his eyes crinkled in uncontrollable happiness. “Yes, I will.”</p><p>Iwaizumi slipped the ring onto Oikawa’s slender finger and stood up, pulling Oikawa toward him. He wrapped an arm around Oikawa’s waist and cupped his cheek, smiling at the small gasp that his touch elicited. Pressing their lips together, Iwaizumi drowned in Oikawa’s presence, content to never come up for air again. His senses were screaming at him to move faster and taste more of Oikawa, but Iwaizumi kept the kiss slow and languid. He dipped his tongue between Oikawa’s lips, leisurely exploring how to draw out Oikawa’s breathy gasps and unsteady exhales. Oikawa brought his hands to the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck, curling his fingers into Iwaizumi’s hair and deepening the kiss. Iwaizumi shivered, his thoughts hazy and saturated with desire. When he gasped out a low moan, Iwaizumi reluctantly pulled away before he could lose himself further and rested his forehead against Oikawa’s, trying to steady his breathing. Oikawa’s lips had tasted like a promise—a promise of having all the time in the world to make plans together. And Iwaizumi was drunk on that promise.</p><p>Oikawa’s eyes were lit with the glow of the setting sun, bringing out those golden flecks that always managed to take Iwaizumi’s breath away. Oikawa’s voice was husky when he spoke again. “I’m so relieved. For a minute there, I thought I wasn’t going to have a place to stay the night.” A laugh escaped his lips.</p><p>Iwaizumi smirked. “What, you think you’re staying with me? This might cost you,” he said, giving Oikawa knowing look.</p><p>“Put it on my bill,” Oikawa responded with a grin. Oikawa leaned closer, pulling Iwaizumi in for another kiss. Iwaizumi happily obliged, inhaling the taste of Oikawa like he was air and Iwaizumi desperately needed to breathe. He silently thanked the deities of luck for intertwining their lives in the most fortunate of ways.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For anyone who's made it to this point, THANK YOU! You have no idea how much it means to me to have people read this fic. It started as a little bit of self-indulgence and an experiment to try fic writing and I have so enjoyed this process. Thank you again, and I would love to hear your comments on the ending! As always, kudos are much appreciated :)</p><p>Come chat with me about Haikyuu!! on tumblr @swankyandmoomoo &lt;3</p>
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